The Reader, The Dead Boy, and the Human Sacrifice: The Story
by Starr Rose
Summary: Carter and Brian are a brother and a sister trying to survive a move and survive their new lives, without letting anybody know exactly what they are and what they've done. Of course, they're not expecting Beacon Hills to knock them on their asses.
1. Chapter 1

My big brother was my entire world when I was a little girl. He was the coolest person to ever walk the earth. He wasn't like other big brothers. He never excluded me. He taught me to play catch and video games and how to cuss. Dad died pretty soon after I was born. So Brian was the closest thing I had to a guy in my life. So, when Mom and I came close to losing him, we couldn't handle it, and we didn't. We did everything we could, and we saved him. But, saving him meant moving away from where we lived so nobody would mention it to him. His accident was famous and we couldn't have people bringing it up. So we left our beautiful little Florida town to move to Beacon Hills. Where I got to start high school anew at the fresh age of 16.

"Real food, Carter!" The first sentence of the first morning in my new school was Brian yelling at me as I reached for a Kit Kat bar hidden in the butter compartment of the fridge.

I looked over my shoulder to glare at Brian just as our mother wandered into the kitchen and agreed, "He's right, Carter! Gotta keep you healthy, babydoll. Come on now. An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

I grabbed a bottle of water and closed the fridge door. Brian tossed me an apple from the counter and said with a fond smile, "Come on, sis. Let's get going. Don't wanna be late for the first day of school. Didn't you hear? I'm a Junior! Again."

"Don't be like that, Brian. Some people would consider themselves lucky to be in your shoes. Getting a second chance to finish high school!" Mom scolded while she raked her fingers through her ridiculously long, stereotypically black hair. "And you'll do better this time around!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed. "Come on, Carter."

We made our way towards the door, Bri grabbing the car keys from the bowl in the center of the counter as we went. Mom called out, "Carter drives!"

We rolled our eyes simultaneously but made our way outside nonetheless. I walked to the driver side, Bri tossed me the keys, and we slid in effortlessly. I drove down to the end of the street, parked the car, and climbed out to switch sides with Brian. As we passed each other walking in front of the car, he slid a Kit Kat bar into my hand. We got to the high school 15 minutes early and Brian sighed, "We can go ahead in and try to figure everything out, or we could take a moment to breathe."

"I think I need a minute to breathe," I admitted. "It's overwhelming, Bri."

"I know. But we're going to get everything figured out. Everything's going to be one hundred percent fine. You'll see. New school, new us."

I snorted and we climbed out to lean against the hood. I chewed my bottom lip while Brian leaned close and whispered stories about the people who walked past. We both knew parts of the real stories about people, but it was more fun to make them up. There was nothing interesting about a cheerleader who was going to an Ivy League college in the fall. We made her a missionary, spreading the word of the Great and Powerful Zulu across the plains of Antarctica. As the bell rang, Bri announced, "This is going to be different, Carter. Can't you feel it in the air? The energy? The difference? This place is going to save us. Can't you feel it?"

"I feel like the other side made you way too dramatic for your own good," I answered laugh as I straightened myself up from the hood of the car. He threw his arm around my shoulders and gave me his big, charismatic grin before escorting me inside. At the front office, the secretary separated us and sent Brian off to Chemistry and me off to French. By fourth period study hall, I was exhausted by the day.

I found study halls useless. I'd rather be in classes, earning credits that would let me graduate early. I didn't need a study hall to get work done. That just led to boredom at home. Boredom that led to a Netflix addiction and a library that had been explored three times. Like Mom always chirped at me "Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy soul!" As if I needed reminded again and again and again.

Fifteen minutes into study hall, the chair in front of me screeched as somebody drew it back. I didn't look up from my book, instead I ignored them and continued to read. That didn't deter my new _friend_. A cheerful guy voice greeted, "Hi, I'm Danny."

"Are you the welcoming committee?" I questioned drily, not looking up from my book.

"Actually, yeah. So, Shakespeare, huh? Are you an actress?"

"Nope." I popped the p.

"Poet?"

"Nope."

"Romantic?"

I sighed and shut my book so I could look up at the perv bothering me while I was trying to read. But, when my eyes found his, I was taken aback. He wasn't a pervert, or at least he wasn't a pervert that had me in his sights. It was etched in every line in his face. In his smile lines, his dimples, the way he crossed his arms on the table. I laughed and spoke without thinking, "Oh, you're gay!"

The smile slid from his face and his voice deepened to a snarl when he demanded, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"God, no!" I cried out quickly. "I just thought…I thought you were talking to me because….well, because I'm a girl and new and some people think that because of those things…you know….that…."

My foot was so far in my mouth I was using my stomach acid to trim my toenails. But the smile slid right back into place on Danny's face and he replied, "Well that's fine then. Thought you were a homophobe. So what's your name, Little Miss Jump-To-Conclusions?"

"Carter Erickson."

"So where are you from, Carter Erickson?"

"Florida."

"Long way from home."

"Yeah, we moved for my brother's health."

"I'm going to assume that your brother is the only other new student here. Brian, right? Tall guy, dark curly hair, kind of cute."

"Well, my brother is tall with dark curly hair, and his name is Brian. I don't know about the cute part. But, growing up, that's what all the girls said."

"Well, now a guy's said it so that should complete the consensus. But I see that you two have the same bone structure so you shouldn't have any problems with the guys around here," Danny teased warmly.

"Trust me when I say that that is the least of my worries."

"With the guys around here, it shouldn't be. They're like animals."

"Animals I can handle. And, you know, my big brother goes to this school too."

"And he's definitely big."

"The admiration in your voice is almost disturbing," I admitted with a laugh.

"Eh. So show me your schedule. Let me know what you're doing here."


	2. Chapter 2

I was on my way to fifth period with Danny as my guide when I felt it yank at me. It was a pulling in my gut. It yanked hard and made me double over almost in pain. When I went down, Danny reached out to grab my arm to steady me.

"What's wrong? Are you cramping?"

Light flashed through my head, flooding me with warmth and a burning need all at once. It was like an alarm going off, screaming at me. Get to Brian. I choked out, "I have to go. Sorry."

I pulled my arm away from Danny and stumbled forward, down the hall, the feeling getting stronger the further I walked. The bell rang for fifth period and I ignored it. I needed to get to my brother. I turned the corner and faced him, faced them. Two Seniors picked at Brian. One shoved him backwards, into the lockers, and I felt it as he slammed his spine hard against it. I felt the healing after the impact. It drained me for a second and I had to gasp for air before I could shout, "Hey, fuckface! Leave him alone!"

Of course, that drew attention to me from the bullies and my brother. I read their faces quickly. Dumbass one- failing Chemistry, reads two grade levels below normal, slightly above average at math but not enough to truly excel. Follower. Weak spot- jealousy. Dumbass two- charismatic, passing classes due to charm- not intelligence, upper middle class, smokes pot on the weekends. Leader. Weakness- sleeping with his follower's girlfriend.

"Here's what's going to happen, shit-for-brains and sloppy-seconds," I commanded their attention, giving Brian time to stand up. "You're going to quit fucking around with him. Not just today. For the rest of your school career, his school career, and the rest of your pitiful, shallow, below average lives."

It didn't take long for them to respond to that. Dumbass Two croaked, "Excuse me? It's cute that a little freshman is defending her boyfriend but you don't know who you're talking to."

I was the physical opposite of Brian, which led to people assuming I was much younger than my true age. He took after our tall, skeletal mother; I took after a great grandma with the height of a small dog. Bri had black curls. I had pin straight, true red hair. No freckles though, and no death white complexion. It was a normal, peach-ish complexion- if a little on the pale side.

"One, that's my brother. Two, I know everything but your names." Brian slid up beside me. "You, big and ugly, are as dumb as they come, and not just because you've failed Chemistry twice. It's because he's fucking your girlfriend and you're too stupid to notice. How long's it been going on, rich and dumb? Two months? Three months?" His eye twitched. "Six? It's been going on for six months? Wow! How have you not noticed?"

"Shut up!" he roared. Brian looped his arm through mine and dragged me back a step.

"No!" I growled back. "Listen to me now! You will never lay hands on my brother again or I will rip your soul out. Do you understand me? I will destroy…"

I was distracted as the sexiest blonde I'd ever seen in my life turned the corner and wandered right into our midst as if we weren't in the middle of an epic showdown. My voice trailed and I stared, not reading his personality, but instead letting my eyes drag down him. Light blonde hair that was the slightest bit out of place, shocking blue eyes in a face reminiscent of a Greek God, and a body to murder thousands for. Broad shoulders, well defined chest set against a blue cotton shirt, jeans that hugged rock hard thighs, and an ass to sink nails into. I swallowed hard as Brian's fingers came up to dig into my arm.

"Are you in the middle of something?" the hotty questioned.

"Get out of here, Lahey!" Leader snarled.

While dumbfuck 1 and 2 were focused elsewhere, Brian leaned forward and hissed, "Are you looking?"

"Of course, Bri," I muttered.

"Not at his abs, stupid. Look, Carter."

"I can't do that, Burns," Lahey replied as I raised my eyes back up to his face. Abusive home life, adopted by friend's family. No. Not friend. My eyes traced his face again. It wasn't friend. It was blank. A no meaning. He had a face beneath his face that was blurring words, blurring meanings. The entire image wavered, opaque, showing a shadow beneath, a shadow with no meaning. I stepped back. Lahey continued, "A girl, Burns? You're picking on a new girl."

"Leave it alone, Isaac," Dumbass 2 chimed in, but there was apprehension in his voice.

"Leave them alone." The shadow beneath the human face moved, like it was waking up. Where it had been stationary before, it turned.

"We're actually getting to class now," I spoke up, keeping my eyes on the shadow boy. "The problems dealt with. Thank you. Goodbye."

Brian and I turned as one and made it around the corner when we heard the footsteps jogging to catch up. Then, we heard his voice. "Hey, wait a minute!"

We stopped and turned to face the shadow man. The smiles painted on our faces was so fake they were almost cracking. He stopped in front of us and explained, "I didn't get your names."

He inhaled and wrinkled his nose, which would have been really cute if the shadow beast hadn't surged to the surface, blurring his features for that second. I introduced quickly, "Carter and Brian Erickson. Isaac Lahey, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, thanks for helping us out. We really have to get going now. The I-got-lost-excuse only works for so long before they figure out we're blowing off class."

"Well, where are you headed? I'll help you there." He raised his hand to dig at his nose.

"No, that's okay. We wouldn't want to keep you from whatever you're doing," I objected.

"I'm just in free period. Come on. Where are you supposed to be?"

"Trig," I gave in, knowing it would seem weird to fight.

"Study hall," Bri added, his fingers digging into my tricep.

"Come on then. The library's on the way to the math wing so I'll take you first."

The entire way to the library, he dug at his nose, as if he were just about to sneeze and couldn't figure out why. Then, after he dropped Bri off, the itching stopped and the shadow settled. We walked in silence for a second before he commented, "You seem nervous. You and your brother."

"We're new here," I excused. "Just settling in."

"Welcome to Beacon Hills. Sorry for the assholes. There are actually a lot of good people here."

The shadow was calm, blending seamlessly with his face. I had to be searching to find it.

"Yeah, I've met Danny Mahealani. I think I'm pronouncing his last name right."

"Doing better than Stiles every does. Here's your classroom. If you ever need anything, let me know."

"Thank you." I tried not to stare too intensely at the face behind his face and smiled awkwardly. "Well, see you around."

I ducked into the classroom and found an entire classroom of faces turning to me. I apologized, "I'm sorry. I got a little turned around and somebody redirected me the wrong way. They must have misunderstood me."

"You must be Carter Erickson. Hm. I had you written down as a boy. Find your seat." The middle aged man grumbled, looking down at the attendance sheet on the desk and marking it while waving his free hand dismissively at me.

I kept my eyes down and made my way to the only empty seat in the room. I slid in next to a strawberry blonde and she promptly ignored me. I turned my attention to the board, ignored the drinking habits written on the face of my teacher, and tried to see around the mop of brown hair that adorned the head of the boy in front of me. Until he turned around and introduced, "Hi, I'm Scott. Do you understand how he got that answer?"

I choked on my words. They stuck in my throat. The shadow creature under his face wasn't just there. It was roiling, moving, constantly searching. I couldn't even read anything else about him. Brown eyes, brown hair, probably of Hispanic descent. That was it. No personality traits stuck out to me. I was doing what other humans did. I was reading a basic smile and tone of voice.

"Are you okay?" The shadow stirred in him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I spit out quickly. "The answer is cosine over sine."

"Well, I know, but do you know how he got it?"

For the second time that day, I found myself talking to a shadow creature and trying to make my voice stay flat while I spoke. Until the strawberry blonde next to me asked a question and I looked over to find something completely different beneath her face. She was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. But there was something below the surface that stuck out. It wasn't a shadow and it wasn't a completely different face. It was a trait, a part of her that I couldn't read and couldn't understand and, for the first time, I was terrified. I'd met two people in one body before and it was an interesting experience interpreting who they were. But I'd never met a person who was another thing, yet was only one person.

At the end of the day, Brian met me at the car and we sat in silence for a moment. Finally, I said, "I saw another one today, Bri. There are two shadow people in this school."

"I met a girl who has something behind her face and I think I fell in love with her."

I turned my head to stare at him and he explained, "She corrected our physics teacher and called him mediocre."

"Was her name Lydia?"

"Yes!"

"She's in my trig class and, seriously, there's something behind her face."

"Should we tell Mom?"

"We tell Mom, she'll freak out and move us to Texas next. That's the only other place with an open rift. I will die in Texas, Bri. I'm convinced of it."

"Then we don't tell her. We wait and see if the shadow people are dangerous. If they are, we'll move to Texas. If they aren't, we stay here."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm serious, it's like they knew something. They were freaking out around me. And when I was around him, I couldn't stop itching. But, as soon as he went into the library, it was gone."

"Dude, shut up for like two freaking seconds. I'm trying to figure this out!" I snapped. Since Isaac moved into Scott's house I couldn't spend five minutes there in silence, just working like Scott and I used to because Isaac had to talk all the fucking time.

"I'm talking to Scott, about werewolf problems."

It was like a competition between the two of us. I'd been there forever, he was new. We were still wriggling, trying to find our place. Mine was a solidified place, where I belonged. His was a place because he was part of Scott's pack and he didn't have any other place to go.

"You're talking about a new girl and her brother, who you had an allergic reaction to," I argued.

"He's right though, Stiles," Scott agreed. "She's in my trig class and when she looked at me, her heart beat sped up and it was like she almost had a heart attack, right in front of me. It was like she could see something I couldn't."

"Maybe she just thought you were cute," I sighed. I knew The Notebook by heart after years of reading it to try and impress Lydia. But I could only read it for twenty pages before the words rearranged themselves and I had to close my eyes and start again.

"Both of us?" Isaac questioned.

"It worked for Allison." I looked up to see them both glaring at me. "Just saying. She thought you guys were cute and you got a creepy vibe from her brother. Congrats."

"Come on, Stiles. You were right when you got that creepy vibe from Matt and see what happened there?"

"Yeah, none of you believed me and he almost killed all of us. But weird things are happening us because we hit the reset button on a supernatural beacon. Not because two strangers showed up."

"Look, I'm just saying they're weird, and you did say supernatural beacon!"

"You met a brother and a sister in the middle of a hall brawl with the baseball team's idiots on their first day in Beacon Hills. Of course they're a little weird. It doesn't make them supernatural! Look, neither of you can approach people, clearly, so I'll go up and talk to her tomorrow. Can either of you get into the school's database so I know her class schedule? I'm having a little trouble with it right now."

"Can you walk me through it?" Scott asked with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah. I can walk you through it." It wasn't just annoying that I struggled to read. It was scaring the hell out of me. There wasn't an easy way to explain to teachers and my dad that it suddenly took me two hours to read what should have taken me twenty minutes, that I was having panic attacks every time I turned around, that I found myself sitting on my bed in the mornings, counting my fingers and screaming to make sure I was awake.

After we hacked the school website and I memorized her schedule, I went home. In the old days, I would fall asleep on Scott's couch or in their spare bedroom. But, with Isaac and the nightmares, that wasn't an option anymore. So I went home and fell into what I hoped was sleep, fell into a series of six dreams (three of which I was buried alive), woke up from each one screaming until I came out of what I considered my final awakening, counted my fingers, and got dressed for school.

When I pulled into the school parking lot, I saw them instantly. They were standing completely still, leaning on the hood of their car. It was a sweet ride. Black Mustang, late 1970's model. Well cared for too. Not a scratch on the entire thing. That was my in, my conversation starter. So I parked the jeep and started towards them suavely, until the girl turned around and looked at me.

She was small. Her facial features fit her age group but she was so tiny she wouldn't even have been able to reach the top of a fridge without help. She had one of those faces from anime or fairy cartoons. With a little pointed chin and great big eyes, all surrounded by real red hair. Sunset red. There was no denying she was a red head. And her eyes glowed a hazel so bright it reminded me of the werewolves' eyes. And she was wearing a little yellow sundress with black tights that made her look like summer and sunshine and beauty all rolled up into one little ball. And I tripped as I stared at her. I went down and barely caught myself before I hit the concrete. And, when I got back up, she wasn't even looking at me. She was talking to Danny.

There was my real in. Danny. My boy. I adjusted myself and walked over with as much confidence as I could muster after taking a nose dive on the pavement. I made it to them and cried out, "Danny, what have you been up to?"

"Hey, Stiles. The same thing I've been up to all year. Still getting over that break up with Ethan."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm really sorry about that. You haven't heard from him at all?"

"Nope. I'm pretty sure Lydia still talks to Aiden though."

"You know Lydia?" The brother spoke up and I turned my attention to him. Really, I'd been glancing at his sister out of the corner of my eye the entire time. Just because there was a cute red head to my left didn't mean I didn't still have a major thing for Lydia.

"Yeah. We've gone to the same school our whole lives. Beacon Hills isn't very big. You get to know people pretty well." I was turned facing them at that point and neither of them were staring at my eyes. Their focus was on my face but their eyes were dashing across it, left to right, up and down. Two or three times before their eyes focused. Then, they smiled.

"I guess it's my job to introduce people since I know them. Carter, Brian, this is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is Carter and Brian Erickson. They're new around here," Danny introduced us.

"It's nice to meet you. I…"

Whatever I was going to say, Carter interrupted me. She asked softly, "What's your first name? Your real first name?" Her hazel eyes narrowed and she focused hard on my face. "It's not Stiles."

"It's Polish and long and hard to pronounce and I hate it. So I go by Stiles."

She stared hard again and then nodded. Brian asked, "How bad did you hurt your hands when you fell?"

At that moment, I had to agree with Isaac, I didn't exactly like the guy. But that had more to do with the fact that he was embarrassing me in front of his hot sister than him giving me the creeps. Really, the two seemed normal. They needed to work on their eye contact and their staring, but they seemed normal. Intuitive but normal. I replied, "I barely fell. I'm fine. No big deal or anything. I'm used to it. Not that it happens a lot or anything. I mean, I don't fall all the time."

"Stiles, stop talking," Danny ordered. "Carter, did you finish your book yesterday?"

"Yes. I had some free time at home yesterday after I finished my homework. So I went for a little run and finished it afterwards."

"Do you run all the time?" While the brother and sister were focused on Danny, I studied them. Brian was the opposite of Carter. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. But their faces had the same solemn, studying look. Like they were constantly contemplating people, constantly searching for understanding.

"I run every day. I'm more of a night runner. I hate mornings."

"She barely functions when she first wakes up," Brian chimed in.

"Be careful running at night around here. There have been a lot of animal attacks in the past few years."

"I don't run far," she assured Danny. "Roughly three miles from the house."

"Does Brian run with you?"

"I'm a morning runner. She starts out at seven at night; I go at five in the morning."

"You really should have somebody run with you. Don't you live out on the edge of town? Up Golden Ridge Hill?"

"Yeah, but we haven't really seen much animal activity." Her eyes shifted to her brother and then back to Danny.

"Beacon Hills didn't either until four or five years ago," Danny argued.

"I really think…"

"I should run with you," I interrupted her and instantly regretted it. But my worst habit was my inability to shut up. "I need to run more. I don't do it as much as I used to."

Three pairs of eyes were instantly on me. Two were connected to concerned frowns and one was connected to an amused smirk.

"You don't want to run with me," she said evenly. It wasn't teasing about running abilities or a nervous rejection. It was a flat statement.

"No, seriously," I lied. "I need to run and you need to run with someone. We can help each other out."

Her eyes trailed from the crown of my head, down to my toes, and back up. She said in a softer voice, meant to save me, "You realize that I run six miles a day, right? Three miles in the woods, three miles back. That's a harsh number to start with."

"And she's not slow," Brian added.

"Six miles is nothing," I exaggerated. "I mean, I might slow you down a little and we'll have to rest for a minute before we start back, but I got this. Psh. I **am** on the lacrosse team and, in off season, I do track and field."

"He pole vaults," Danny added. "Poorly."

"But coach makes us run laps all the time for 'mouthing off.'"

"And he runs a lot of laps." I glared at Danny. "He might not be as quick, but he won't slow you down too much."

"It would make Mom feel better about you running in the woods near dark. This will get her off your back."

"Fine," she sighed. She turned to dig around in her backpack for a pen. She grabbed my wrist, yanked my arm up, and slid her fingers down my palm until her tiny hand disappeared underneath mine. Then, she scrawled a set of numbers across the back of my hand and commanded, "Call me only if you need directions. I start at seven o'clock, on the dot."

The bell rang inside and she dropped my hand. Brian said, "It was nice to meet you, Stiles."

"See you at seven," Carter added.

"Don't get into trouble, Stiles."

They walked away and I stared down at the black symbols on my hand. I blinked and checked them again, watching them slide back into place. In the school, Scott was waiting at my locker for me. I raised my hand to put my combination in and his eyes fixated on the back of it. With a goofy grin, he asked, "What's that?"

"Huh?" I looked down at the ten digits and explained, "Oh, that. You remember the girl you and Isaac wanted me to investigate?"

"Carter Erickson, yeah."

"That's her phone number. Apparently, I just volunteered to run six miles into the woods with her today at seven o'clock."

Scott's jaw dropped and he gasped, "Dude! We think there's something weird with them! And you're going to follow her into the woods near dark?"

"They don't seem weird. They just seem nervous. They're new here, and she and Danny were talking about…"

"Danny's hanging out with them too!?"

"Yeah, don't interrupt," I scolded. "She and Danny were talking about how she goes running every day, six freaking miles actually, and Danny was worried about her being out with all the animal attacks in the past few years. And, I said I would be her running partner for a while. And she wasn't going to say yes but then her brother insisted and she finally gave in."

"So you don't find anything weird about those two? Nothing at all?" Scott checked.

"Nah. The weirdest thing they do is the staring thing. When you're talking to them, they're eyes kind of drag all over your face. Like they're…." I trailed off as realization hit.

"Like they're what?"

"Like they're reading!" I laughed. "That's what unnerves you and Isaac about them. Most people look through other people. Those two read other people."

"What?"

"They're eyes literally move left to right, up and down. Those two are literally reading people. It's not a magical power or something mysterious. They're just good at knowing people. And my guess is that you and Isaac make them nervous. You're hard to read for people who don't know you. So you make them feel uncomfortable. That's all," I laughed. "See, not everything has to do with the fact that you get all wolfey."

Scott rolled his eyes and informed me, "I'm still going to send Isaac near where you'll be. Just in case something does go wrong. I don't want us to be wrong about them and something happen to anyone."


	4. Chapter 4

"I hate you for this, Bri. This sucks. There's something wrong with him. You saw it. I saw it too." I grumbled as I tied my hair up.

"But it's not a shadow man. There's a light in him, Carter. Something stressful and worrisome and secret, but not dangerous."

I rolled my eyes at Brian, who was bent over the coffee table with his Physics book and calculator. I changed the subject. "You should have waited to take Physics with me. You know I could have helped."

"You know that it's weird for other people if we're around each other too much. Mom wants to limit the amount of people who find us creepy."

I snorted and retorted, "That'd be a lot easier if you weren't such a huge weirdo."

He blew air out of his mouth and replied, "You're the huge weirdo. You have big old bug eyes."

"And you have tiny hands for a man."

Bri's mouth fell open and he warned, "Take it back, Carter, or I'm going to mess up your hair."

"Don't you dare, Bri. I just got it pulled up the way I like it," I growled.

"Take it back."

"Take back the bug eyes comment," I challenged.

"Not a chance in hell."

"Then you're going to have to deal with the fact that you have baby hands, Brian."

He jumped up and was across the room in a moment. As he reached to put me in a headlock, I swung on him quick, hitting him evenly in the ribs, and then I gasped as it took the breath out of me. I growled, "This is never a fair fight."

"Your problem, little sis." He reached out and grabbed me up in a headlock. I shrieked as his knuckles came down on my head and began giving me an epic noogie.

"Brian! Get the hell off, you giant ass!" I screamed.

"No! Take it back!"

"Hell no!" I roared.

Suddenly, as I shouted and Brian shouted back, the front door flew open with a bang so violent, Brian let go of me and I stumbled backwards into the wall, hitting my head before sliding down onto my ass. Stiles rushed in like he was going to save somebody's life. He cried out, "What's going on?"

"Did you just break our fucking door?" I groaned, rubbing the back of my head where it slammed off the wall.

"No, no, no. It's not broken. At least I don't think it's broken. Okay, it might be a little broken."

"I'll go look," Brian sighed. "It won't be the first time something got broken because of rough housing."

"Mom's going to flip her shit when she gets home," I sighed.

"I'll fix it before then. You go on your run," Bri ordered as he left the room. He paused and called over his shoulder, "Nice to see you again too, Stiles."

I stared up at the boy standing in front of me. Guilt. Anxiety. Confusion. Sheepishness. I commanded, "Help me up."

"Right, right. Sorry." I took his extended hand and he pulled me to my feet. I hated how he towered over me. He wasn't even six feet tall. Just an inch too short. Yet my forehead fell at collar bone level on him. I stepped back and reached up to check for bumps and bruising. When I was sure I had none, I pulled my hair out of the wrecked ponytail and began the work of putting it back into place.

I glanced up at him and found him staring around my living room, trying his best to keep his eyes off of me. I demanded, "So what made you decide to break into my house?"

"I heard shouting. I didn't know what to think."

"So your first thought was, 'I should barge into this potentially dangerous situation?'"

"I guess it sounds kind of dumb when you say it like that."

"Are you ready to run?"

"I look ready, don't I?" He gestured down at his shorts and sleeveless t-shirt.

"Ready enough, I suppose. Come on."

I led him out of the house, past where Brian was fixing the door hinge, and out to the edge of our small property. Out to where the path led into the woods. I stopped at the edge of the path and glanced over at him. He was staring into the woods with apprehension in his eyes and I assured him, "There aren't a lot of animals out here. Listen."

He stood in silence for a second and asked, "What?"

"What don't you hear?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Animals. There aren't any animals," I explained. "I mean, there are bugs. There are so many freaking bugs. But there are no birds or squirrels or things you'd expect. So seriously, I'm not worried about running alone. You can bail at any time."

I deliberately omitted the fact that there were no animals because they avoided Brian. Stiles replied, "Psh. No way I'm bailing. Let's do this. Three miles! Come one!"

He took off running and I rolled my eyes. Instead of immediately following him, I took time to stretch. Only after I was loose and ready to go, a good five minutes later, did I start running. It took me four minutes to catch up with him. He taunted, "I thought you said **I **was going to hold **you** back."

"I was stretching," I replied carelessly. "It's worth the extra five minutes so I don't get a cramp. And you are slowing me down. What's your mile time?"

"Six point something. You always talk so much?" He was beginning to pant.

"Never." We fell silent. The only sound was the thumping of our sneakers on the hard packed dirt path and the never ending buzz from the insects. I ran in the woods to connect with nature. To feel the plants breath their life into me. To feel the earth sigh as the sun fell beyond the horizon. I needed that time to reconnect to the mother.

By mile one, sweat had formed across my skin, a light sheen that cooled in the shadow of the trees. My skin was misted. Stiles wasn't doing too badly either. He wasn't as quick as I was used to but he wasn't panting heavily, just breathing hard like me. By mile two, I was coated in sweat and Stiles was panting. By mile three, I was running about ten feet ahead of him but he was trudging along. When I stopped at the end of the three miles, he collapsed near my feet and groaned, "I can see why you stretch."

"Mmhm." I bent over to begin stretching and, from the ground, Stiles studied where we were standing.

"Where are we?" he asked after a moment of peace.

"Three miles from my house." The place we stopped was a circle, since the path we came in on ended in it. Three paths shot off from the circle, creating a compass rose. It felt right. It was the most spiritual place I'd ever been in and it was why I finished my run there, in the center of the circle where the sun and moon broke through the trees above.

"But where are we? What is this place?"

"It's just a place in the woods. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It feels…different. You don't feel it? You don't feel how different it is?"

I pulled out of my stretch to stare at him. He was looking around the circle and I read his face fast. Confused. Thinking. Worried. I considered it and replied flippantly, "It's the run. You just ran three miles. Of course you feel different. Get up and stretch."

I swallowed my discontent and extended my hand to him. He slid his hand in mine and let me pull him up to a standing position. I ordered, "Come on. Stretch."

"When you say it like that, it sounds like you're calling me stretch," he chuckled. "Which is funny because, you know, I'm not crazy tall, but to you, I seem like I am. I mean, you're freaking tiny."

"Shut up and do what I'm doing," I commanded as I pulled my leg up behind my back.

"I can't do that."

"Try!"

He fell silent and I closed my eyes to let the energy of the place flow through me. I treated the clearing with a reverence only reserved for nature. I couldn't care less about most people and I didn't give a fuck about school or success. But I truly felt at home with the sound of the trees around me. With the whisper of life deep in the earth and the murmur of decay and rebirth that filled the air. I switched legs and smiled into the pull of tender muscles.

"So, is it just you and your mom and your brother?" Stiles broke the peace of the sunset.

"Mmhmm." I didn't open my eyes.

"Where's your dad?"

"Always ask invasive questions?" I put my foot back on the ground and grabbed my other one to pull up while I leaned forward so that I was bent in half with one foot on the ground and the other stretched up in the air.

"Umm….yeah. P...pretty much. But you know, my mom's gone too. She died when I was young. So it's just me and my dad."

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him. He was crouched down in a lunge with his eyes on the foot that was up in the air. I admitted, "My dad died when Brian and I were really young. Brian remembers him a little, you know? But I don't. He died pretty soon after I was born."

"How does Brian remember him? That would have made him like, what? One? Two at the most?"

I cursed internally and shrugged the best I could in a crouch. I lied, "Just little stuff, you know. Sometimes, I think he remembers more from the stories Mom tells. But he knows more about him than I do. How did your mom die?"

"It was a brain disorder. Dad and I should have been ready for it. Temporal dementia. There's no cure. So we should have been ready. But I guess you never are. You know, we kept thinking that it might just go away. That she just might get better. But she didn't. It was too far along and she just kind of faded away."

"My dad was on his was on his way home from work. We didn't live far from his job so he liked to walk to and from work on nice days. A woman had a seizure while she was driving and she hit him. They say he died on impact."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Like I said, I don't remember much about him." I switched legs and turned my face away from him.

Stiles was silent for about six seconds before he started up again. "So what are your plans for the future? College? Work force? What?"

"College. Probably wherever Brian goes."

"What for?"

"Environmental engineering."

"Wow. Just…wow. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do. Probably something with research. So why environmental engineering?"

"I like the environment. I like math. I like engineering."

"So why college with your brother?"

"Stiles, please shut up so I can stretch and we can run back to my house."

"You're so friendly."

"Let me try it again, friendlier. Stretch, see, cute nickname. Stretch, do as I say so we can finish the run."

He chuckled and rose out of his stretch. "So, do I get to give you a nickname too?"

"I prefer you don't."

"Come on. There's Car. That's kinda nice. I could call you 'beep.'"

"I'll break your arm if you call me 'beep.'"

He laughed and we turned away from the clearing. I asked, "Are you ready?"

"The real question is are **you** ready? Race you back!"


	5. Chapter 5

He took off running and I gave him a head start because I liked the way his smile made dimples in his cheeks and I liked how honest his eyes were. But, before he could get far enough away that I didn't hear the thud of his sneakers on the dirt, I took off after him. I caught up to him in no time, spun around to jog backwards, and taunted, "I do this every day, Stretch. It's going to take you a while to beat me."

Then I spun around and spurred ahead of him. I stayed within fifteen feet of him to ensure he didn't get lost in the woods, but I still made sure to beat him back to the house. I collapsed on my front step and waited for him to come up and collapse beside me. He panted, "Thought…you did this….every….day."

"Don't go hard…every day," I gasped back. "Usually, light run…on the way back."

"Competition's good for you. Water?"

We stumbled inside and I was mid laugh at Stiles hitting the wall when I heard it. The sound of clattering and cooking in the kitchen combined with a static radio and the tv blaring in the living room. My mother was home. I stopped dead in my tracks and Stiles crashed into my back. Then, I heard her call out, "Carter, is that you, honey bunny? Who's with you?"

Suddenly, her face appeared leaning out of the kitchen. She grinned widely at us and waved with a long, sleek butcher knife in her hand. "Hello, dear. What's your name now?"

I sighed as her eyes grazed over his face a few times and her grin widened. Stiles replied, "Stiles Stilenski."

"Oh, how lovely. You're the sheriff's son. And you went running with my Carter? How nice. I'm glad she has somebody out there with her. Are you a friend from school?"

"Mom…" I began.

"Yeah, I am," Stiles interrupted. "She knows my friend Danny and they were talking about running today and I really need to start running more. You know, I just don't run enough. So Carter is helping me get my distance up."

"Carter will definitely push you. My girl gets what she wants, you know. She and her brother are determined. My name is Morgan Erickson."

"It's nice to meet you Ms. Erickson."

"Please, call me Morgan. Are you staying for dinner, sweetheart? We're having chicken casserole tonight. Organic, of course."

"Mom…."

"I actually can't," Stiles turned her down gently. "I have a thing with some friends of mine. We're getting together to go over some information. I actually have to be there in half an hour. I just came in with Carter to get some water. But maybe after I run with her tomorrow. That could be fun."

I could feel my embarrassment skyrocketing. Stiles talked as much as my mother. Then, Brian decided to join in. He appeared in the doorway from the living room and questioned, "Mom, why are you still holding a knife?"

"Cooking dinner, sweetheart. Have you met Stiles? He went running with Carter."

"I know, Mom. I was here when he practically broke the door down to save her from me."

"What?"

"Jesus. If we're going to do this, can we at least do it in the kitchen where I can drink water/drown myself in it?" I interjected.

"Of course we can, babydoll. Now, Brian, what happened?" Mom disappeared back into the kitchen and Brian and I followed her. Stiles trailed after us. Brian sat at the kitchen table, Mom went back to cooking, and Stiles followed me to the kitchen sink to get water.

"Carter and I were wrestling around, Stiles heard her and thought she was in trouble, so he ran in here trying to save her," Brian chuckled. "Can you imagine Carter being in a situation she can't handle?"

"To be fair, I just heard her scream," Stiles tried to butt in. I rolled my eyes and filled two glasses with water. I handed one to him and gulped down the other one.

"That was sweet of you, darling. And, Brian, you never know. There might be a situation one day that Carter can't handle. That's why you guys have to work on…"

"Healthy body, healthy mind, healthy soul," Brian and I said with her.

"Don't mock," Mom scolded. "Now, you two hush. You talk too much. Stiles, tell me about yourself before you have to leave. What year are you in school? What's your taste in women?"

Stiles choked on his water at that last question and I sighed, "Mom! That's invasive."

"Bla, bla, babydoll. Remember that I'm not talking to you."

"I'm a Junior this year and I drive the Jeep that's parked across the street from your house. I don't have a specific taste in girls. I…uh….I don't date a lot. Not that I never date or anything, you know .I just don't date often."

"That's perfectly normal. Brian and Carter don't date either."

Brian and I cried out, "Mom! Come on!"

"That's mostly because they're always together," Mom continued as if we hadn't spoken. "Well, Carter had her little awkward years where we were trying to get Brian healthy again. He had a few sick years. Well, five to be exact. And while he was getting better, Carter kind of went through a rough time. It's only been about a year since she got better around people and developed and stuff, you know."

"Mom!"

"Carter, I am talking to your friend," Mom sighed. She was casually chopping apples on the counter while she talked. "Brian had the same thing. Of course, you know, he was sick so of course he couldn't date. I guess there just wasn't time. I mean, they're both attractive, don't you think?"

It was then that she paused. The first time she really stopped talking and she paused to let him answer that question. Stiles stammered, "Yeah, I mean, I guess, yeah they are."

"Thanks," Brian and I said drily in unison.

"Now that everybody is healthy and okay, I'm hoping that they start having a more normal teenage experience. I think it's really important for them to get out there, for them to experience the stuff normal teenager's experience."

I finished drinking my water and dropped my cup in the sink. I announced, "Well, Mom, thank you for the amount of awkward of the day. Stiles is going to leave now."

"It's not nice to force people to leave the house, Carter."

"No, no, it's okay. I really do have to get going anyway," Stiles excused himself. "But dinner tomorrow, right?"

The situation was fluctuating between getting better and getting worse very quickly. Mom commanded, "Walk him out, Carter."

Stiles handed me his empty cup and I put it in the sink. Then, I led him to the front door.

"Well, thank you for running with me. You didn't have to and you seriously don't have to come to dinner tomorrow." I didn't know what to do with my hands. Of course, the only guy I generally ever had contact with was Brian so I wasn't experienced with dealing with guys over at my house.

"I want to. Do you run every day? Like six miles every day?"

"Yes. And three days a week I do strength training in the morning."

"I thought Brian said you weren't a morning person."

"I'm not. I fucking hate mornings."

"Carter, we only use language like that when other people aren't in the house!" Mom shouted from the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and continued, "I really hate mornings. But, I get up early three days a week so that I can work out. If I'm not up by five on those days, Brian comes in and makes me get up."

"Your family is pretty into this health stuff, huh?"

"Yeah. We take it pretty seriously since Brian got sick," I admitted. "So I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'll see you at school in the morning."

Stiles left and I walked back into the kitchen. I warned Mom, "That was not okay, Mom. You want us to be normal, but you are not making it easy."

"Oh, hush, Carter. This is the first time you've ever brought anybody back to the house. I'm excited," Mom defended.

"Mom, we all know that Carter **couldn't** bring anybody back to the house for a few years," Brian took my side. "Be nice to her. You guys gave up everything for me. Let's be a little understanding now that Carter is showing interest in boys."

"Brian, thank you but also, that's not helping. I'm going to go shower."

"Babydoll, be positive!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Guess who got her laptop back from the shop and it's all fixed and perfect and I'm crazy happy so here's an early update! Happy Wednesday! **

I unlocked Scott's door and walked into his house. Scott, Isaac, Allison, and Lydia were sitting around the coffee table, discussing ways to close the doors in me, Allison, and Scott. I asked, "When did you get back?"

"I left while you were in their house. Why were you in there so long?" Isaac answered.

"She has a really nice mom who invited me to dinner but I couldn't stay because I had to come here and tell you how normal their family is. A little weird when it comes to being healthy, but literally completely normal." I left out the completely embarrassing conversation.

"How was the run?" Scott asked, letting me feel a little like I'd just been on a run with a cute girl instead of going on an espionage mission to make sure she wasn't our deadly enemy.

"It was nice. It's been a while since I ran six miles and she is freakishly fast for somebody so little, but it was nice."

"She's freakishly flexible too," Isaac added, earning a glare from Scott and Allison.

"Dude, you were supposed to just be around in case she was a freaking monster or something. Not so that you could creep on her!" I objected.

"It's not like you weren't staring," Isaac argued. "When she had her leg up in the air, I thought you were going to wind up on your face in the dirt. And anyway, don't you think there's a reason they're so weird about health?"

"There is a reason actually, Mr. Negative Know It All," I snapped back. "It's because their dad died when they were really little and her brother was sick for five years."

"Danny did say that she told him they moved out here for her brother's health," Scott added with a grimace as he realized that they were picking on a perfectly average family.

"They could be hunters," Isaac spoke up. "The activity around here did attract one family of hunters. Not that it didn't turn out well."

He turned and smiled at Allison and she smiled a tight one back. She asked, "What did they say about their health obsession?"

"Nothing weird. They just have a routine." I found myself defending the brother and sister. "They both run. Carter does strength training a few days a week. Their mom cooks organic foods. They say 'healthy body, healthy mind, healthy soul' but that's as extreme as it gets."

"They don't sound like hunters," Allison pointed out. "Hunters train because they want to kill other things. Not because they want to have a healthy soul. I can talk to them and see if I get any weird vibes but they really don't sound threatening. They sound like your regular type of weird."

"Great. They're not werewolves, or hunters, or banshees," Lydia spoke up for the first time. "Now can Stiles go take a shower so we can talk about what we're going to do about you three going crazy?"

"Do I smell that bad?" I asked.

Scott nodded sheepishly and Isaac piped up, "Like ball sweat."

"Listen here, layers, back before you got that little bite, you used to smell like shit at practice too so don't give me crap," I warned him. "Scott, you still got some of my clothes in your room?"

"Bottom drawer. We'll be out here waiting."

I showered the copious amounts of sweat from my body and returned to the living room where Lydia was painting her nails and Allison, Isaac, and Scott were bent over a notebook, writing possible solutions to our problems. I settled on the couch beside Lydia and she shifted her hips away from mine.

**Carter **

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings were hell. My training was so that I could heal quicker naturally and sustain my own life while sustaining Brian's. But Mom insisted on strength on Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays so I could do some type of defense training on Saturdays and Sundays. There was a karate class on Saturdays in Beacon Hills and Mom was requiring me to continue strength training so that I would excel at defense. Knowing that reasoning didn't make it any easier to accept when Brian knocked on my door Wednesday morning with the order, "Wakey wakey. The weights are waiting in the living room."

Then, he started giggling at the words and I rolled out of bed with a groan. It went the same way every other Wednesday did. Work out and groan the whole time, eat, and scrub myself clean. Then, do minimum clean up to get my hair and face looking okay enough for school.

"You're lucky you get to do fighting training!" Brian whined in the car while I fixed my lip gloss.

"I don't want to do fighting training," I sighed. "I'd much rather you do it."

"But I can't because…"

"If you get hurt, I get hurt. Bri, you know I never regret bringing you back, but sometimes I wish Mom would calm the hell down. You're fine. I'm fine. I just want us to be normal for a little bit."

Brian looked away from the road to stare at me as I capped my lip gloss and flipped the visor back up. He turned his attention back to the road and said softly, "You know I wouldn't blame you if you regretted it, right? You know I understand how hard it is. I'm thankful to be back. I've never been more thankful to you. But I never wanted this for you, sis."

"And I never wanted you to be gone, Bri. We literally couldn't lose you. And now we have you back. Even if I have to learn karate, it's worth it every single second I'm in that class."

He grinned and I reached across the stick shift to take my brother's hand. The brother that was five years older than me. The brother that died when I was eleven years old and he was sixteen. The brother that had only been back for a year and the brother I wasn't willing to give up after all the work my mother and I put into getting him back. I squeezed his hand and let go so he could refocus on the road and we drove to school in comfortable silence.

At school, we climbed out and rested on the hood. Danny joined us a few moments after we arrived and rested on the hood between us. The first thing he asked, with a smirk, was, "How was your time with Stiles?"

"It was a quick run into the woods and a terrible, embarrassing situation afterwards because my mom couldn't have met a gay guy friend before she met a straight guy friend."

"I've known you for two days now, Carter. Don't jump to conclusions with that friend word," he teased. I knew he was teasing, but my eyes still traced over his face to make sure. Brian met my eyes over Danny's shoulder and he smiled comfortingly at me.

Danny nudged me with his shoulder and teased, "Oh look. There's your mother's new favorite person now. Should we play the wedding march?"

I looked to where he was staring and found Stiles walking next to a narrow, beautiful, dark haired girl. I sighed, "The wedding march is played when the woman walks down the aisle, Danny."

"Not in my world," he replied casually.

"So tell me who the pretty brunette is before they get over here."

"Allison Argent. Ex girlfriend of Stile's best friend. Current fling of Isaac Lahey, who lives with Scott. Honestly, I'm not certain how Scott and Isaac haven't torn each other apart."

Danny's rambling faded in my mind as I rushed to connect the names. Scott McCall. Isaac Lahey. The shadow men. I questioned softly, "Is Scott Stiles's best friend?"

"Yeah, actually. Since they were kids. I thought they might be gay for a while. But Stiles fixates on Lydia and Scott got crazy hot and started dating Allison. So definitely not gay."

Brian stiffened beside Danny and I looked over Danny's shoulder again into my brother's eyes. We read each other faster than we could ever read anybody else and we were reading the same message reflected back and forth. It could have just been a regular coincidence but it was hard not to notice your best friend was a shadow person, even for somebody without our abilities.

"Carter, Brian! Hey!" Stiles cried out cheerfully.

I turned to face him and read his face quickly. Pain from yesterday, still having trouble with a big problem, a secret. I painted a fake smile on my face and greeted, "Hello, Stiles. Feeling alright?"

"Sore. Very sore. You?"

"She does it every day, dude. My sister is crazy strong," Brian spoke up. I searched everybody else's face to see if they heard the bite in his voice as well.

"You train every day?" the girl spoke up. I searched her face. Hunter. Weird passion for a teenage girl. Smart. Skeptical. Skeptical of us. Lost. Confused. Worried. Haunted.

"Yeah. I try to keep myself in shape. It's a family thing," I guarded my answer carefully. She wasn't the same as Stiles, who trusted us. She wasn't the same as Danny, who didn't understand the nuances behind our speech. She was searching. I looked away from her and searched Stiles's face instead and found it there too. Skepticism. Searching. More trust than in her face but still searching.

"Oh do you guys do a lot of sports together?"

"None at all," Brian answered. "I actually hate sports."

"You must be friend with Stiles," I said with a cheery laugh. "You're both pros at asking questions before you introduce yourselves. I'm Carter Erickson."

I extended my hand to her and she took it with a firm grasp that I chose not to respond to. She was looking for a dominance battle to prove something but I wasn't giving it to her. She answered, "Allison Argent."

"Nice to meet you."

"Brian Erickson. I'm her older brother." Brian stepped off the car so he could shake her hand too and I watched her eyes drag over his form before he returned to his spot.

"So what do you guys like to do for fun? Movies? Studying? Hunting?"

Stiles shook his head softly and I caught it. I answered, "Hunting? God no. We don't hurt things that don't hurt us!"

"Right, sorry. I just assumed since you've got the build for archery."

"There's a build for archery?" Brian questioned.

The bell rang loud and broke the awkwardness of Brian and I trying to decipher Allison Argent. I excused myself, "It was nice to meet you. I'll see you around. Feel better, Stiles."

Brian slid off the hood and Danny followed him. As we walked away, Stiles called out, "I'll see you tonight for dinner! And a run! Woohoo! Six more miles."

"He's going to die," I commented under my breath.

"He's going to die from all the blood rushing to his boner," Danny replied, making Brian laugh and me blush.

We walked to our lockers. Somehow, Brian and I had managed to get lockers right next to each other, which delighted us and made our mother sigh with discontent. She maintained that us being near each other all the time unnerved people. Danny asked, "So any reason the two of you don't like Allison? I mean, there aren't many people who don't like her."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I denied.

"Oh, come on. None of that. Brian practically threatened her. Why?" Danny demanded.

"Because she doesn't like us," Brian replied. "You didn't see her when she was asking us questions? She thinks there's something wrong with us."

"Nah. Come on. Other than the fact that the two of you are weirdly close for brother and sister, there's nothing wrong with you," Danny objected. "And I'm sure she was just nervous. I mean, it's not every day a guy as hot as you wanders in."

It was Brian's turn to blush and I snorted, "Have you seen her ex and her current fling? You could bake fucking cookies on those two."

"Maybe Isaac," Danny agreed. "Scott's too cutesy for me. Stiles is alright too."

"He's got nice eyes. Honest eyes."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you to talk about boys while I go to class," Brian taunted.

"Come on. I'll walk you to class like a proper gentleman."

"If only straight guys were as kind as you, Danny."


	7. Chapter 7

Brian went one way and we went the other. After French, I was at my locker, switching out my books for Chemistry, when I closed the door and came face to face with a grinning boy around Danny and Stiles's age. He was tall, with a great build, and beautiful green eyes. People pleaser. Sweetheart. Average intelligence.

"Hi, I'm Jason Greenberg. You're new here, right?" He had a really great smile. It was soft, inviting, and, best of all, there were no secrets behind it.

"Yeah. I just started Monday. I'm Carter Erickson."

"That's a great name. Um…" The poor guy was flustered and we hadn't even been talking an entire minute. "I'm in your AP Government class. Third period."

"Oh, yeah," I tried to recall him but I couldn't. "I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

"That's fine. That's okay. I sit near the back and you sit pretty far up front. I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself. And you seem really good at Government and I'm not as good at understanding everything. So I figure you could maybe help me sometime?" He expected me to say no.

"Yeah, I can help you. Would you like my phone number?" I liked the way his eyebrows raised up and disappeared into his shaggy dark hair. I liked the way the corner of his mouth quirked up as if he were trying to hide an exuberant grin that was just below the surface.

"Um…yeah, yeah I would."

The school's lacrosse coach walked past and called out, "Greenberg, quit bugging freshmen!"

"She's not a freshman, Coach. She's a sophomore," Greenberg shouted to his back.

"Don't care, Greenberg! Get to class!"

Jason turned back with a smile on his face nonetheless and pulled a pen out of the pocket of his cargo shorts. He apologized, "I don't have any paper. I'm sorry. I'm on my way to lunch."

"That's completely fine. Let me see your hand."

He held out his hand patiently and I took it in mine. He had nice sized hands. Strong from work and a great deal larger than mine, but still gentle. His hand covered mine and he wrapped it around mine instead of just resting it on top. He held my hand steady while I wrote my digits and penned my name beneath it. I finished and he let go of my hand slowly. I smiled while I said, "There you go. If you need help, just text me or call me."

"Do you have a Facebook or anything, Carter Erickson?" He was genuinely excited and it made my smile stretch into a grin.

"Nope. I don't use social media. Just a cell phone. Makes me more mysterious," I partially teased. Really it made it harder for the people in our old life to track us down and find out that Brian wasn't as dead as he had been five years before. "You'll have to stalk me some other way."

He blushed and the warning bell rang for class. He asked, "Where are you headed? You know, so I can get a start on stalking you."

"Well, if you walk me to Chemistry then I don't think it counts as stalking so why don't you escort me," I suggested.

"Yeah. I'd like that." Without warning, he reached up and slid the backpack strap off my shoulder and down my arm so he could sling it over his own shoulder. I fell into step with him as we started towards the science wing. The great thing about Jason Greenberg was that he filled any silence and didn't ask invasive questions. He asked the normal things you would expect of anybody.

"So are you liking Beacon Hills so far?"

"Yeah, it's not awful."

"I've lived here my whole life and it hasn't been that bad. Are your classes really hard?"

"Well, I'm going from Spanish to French, so that's a little difficult. But Chemistry and Government aren't too bad. Trig is okay as well. I don't like it as much but I can handle it."

"So are you fluent in Spanish?"

"Not completely but I'm getting there. Because I'm not taking it here, I'm continuing my study in an online course."

"Wow. You're like, crazy smart. I do alright but mostly so I can play lacrosse. If my grades get bad, I can't play anymore. Not that I'm very good anyway. Do you play any sports?"

"Nope. I'm not a sports person. I run every day. And I do some strength training. I did some basic boxing for about five years before I moved here and I start karate on Saturday. But no sports."

"Wow. Just wow." I peeked up at him and he grinned down at me. He really did have a gorgeous grin beneath those green eyes. "I mean, you're probably more fit than I ever could be. That's so cool!"

"Thank you. Well, this is my classroom. I'll see you in third period."

"Yes, you will." He handed me my backpack and I slipped into the classroom.

**Stiles**

"Does Greenberg look happy to you?" Scott asked. "Like, happier than his usual self?"

"I don't pay a lot of attention to Greenberg," I sighed, staring down at my statistics textbook. It took me thirty minutes to read ten pages the night before.

"You should," Allison sat down beside me with Isaac close behind. He took the seat next to Scott.

"Why's that?" I gave up on statistics and closed the book.

"Because he's walking around with Carter's phone number on his hand," Isaac stated, earning a glare from me.

"What's it matter?" Lydia completed our group. "It's not like she's dating Greenberg or Stiles. The girl just got here Monday. People are going to be friendly to her. I'm more interested in whether she's a hunter or not. And you gossip mongers should be more worried about that too."

I smiled at her and she smiled softly back. Since our problems the year before, Lydia and I had gotten a lot closer. She still refused to date me or acknowledge any feelings between the two of us, but she wasn't ignoring me anymore. She'd gone from not knowing my name to talking to me every day.

"They're definitely not hunters," Allison gave her verdict. "They're weird but they're not hunters. And they really don't like me."

"To be fair, you were up in her face asking her really weird questions," I defended Carter.

"I didn't ask her brother any weird questions! And he used her to threaten me! Isaac and Scott are right, I get a weird feeling from them."

"So they're weird? They're not dangerous. Leave them alone. Focus on our problems and leave them alone," I warned.

"Look, if Stiles isn't worried, I'm not worried," Scott took my side. "And he's right. We have other stuff to focus on."

"We're going to get it fixed," Lydia put her hand on my forearm to comfort me but she couldn't hide the smirk on her face. "That's what we need to focus on."

"You could enjoy it less," Allison spoke up.

"I really can't."

At that moment, Greenberg passed and I reached out to snag his arm quickly. He stopped dead in his tracks and smiled down at me with that ever present goofy grin that Coach hated. I questioned, "Do you know Carter Erickson?"

"Yeah, she's in my government class. I'm not that great at that stuff so she's going to help me. She's really nice." That goofy grin was still stretched across his face and I started to understand why Coach hated it so much.

"So why do you have her number written on your hand?"

"So I can call her if I need help with Government. Do you know Carter?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Cool. Well, I'm going to go eat lunch. See you later, Stiles. Bye, Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Allison."

When he'd left, Isaac sneered, "He's way too happy to be real. He makes me puke."

"Maybe that's your problem with Brian and Carter then," I challenged. "They're happy and you're not."

Isaac made a face at me and I handed my Stats book to Lydia. I commanded, "Give me a rundown of whatever is in chapter three."

"Yeah we definitely have to get you guys fixed soon."


	8. Chapter 8

I knocked on the Erickson's door at six forty five and Brian answered it about half a minute after I knocked. He greeted, "Stiles. Carter's finishing getting ready now. She'll be down in a minute."

Then he turned and walked away from me, which I took as an invitation to come in. It wasn't as warm as the day before but introducing them to Allison probably wasn't in my favor. As I entered the hallway, Carter came down the staircase at the end of the hall and I stared shamelessly and curiously, trying to identify what made her a threat to the group. What gave Scott and Isaac the creeps.

But I couldn't find it. She was just a tiny girl in a faded Nirvana shirt tied in the back and a pair of shorts that seemed almost too short and almost too tight. Her tiny white ankle socks barely peeked out of the tops of her itty bitty white sneakers and her red hair was pulled up in a high, tight ponytail. It swung behind her back with every step she took. Every muscle in her body was taut, stretched across the bone and showing how much effort she put into her health. Her face was scrubbed clean, the eyeliner she wore during the day completely erased and her face glowing with natural light.

"Stiles, I didn't expect you early," she greeted with ice in her voice and I understood without a doubt that she knew Allison didn't like her.

"I just wanted to come over and apologize for Allison being rude today. She's just rude sometimes, you know. Sorry about that. You ready to run?"

"Yes, I'm ready," her voice was still hard, but less cold. "Are you ready? Your legs are still sore."

"Well, yeah, they are, but I'll be fine. I'll just stretch before I start running. I have a change of clothes out in my jeep for dinner too. No rushing off tonight."

"Right. Well, come on." She walked right past me on the way to the door, her shoulder brushing against mine in a way that wasn't aggressive enough to damage but enough to let me know she was pissed. I rolled my head back on my shoulders and shook out my chest before following her. She might have thought she was going to get the best of me, but I was used to dealing with bitchy girls. Carter Erickson was nothing compared to Lydia and Allison. Except, she was. Because as soon as we got to the edge of the woods, she started stretching and I couldn't stop staring at the way she lifted her leg up in the air like it was nothing.

"Stretch, Stiles, or you're going to get hurt during this run," she commanded from down near the ground where her head was. I pulled my leg up behind my back as she dropped her leg down to the ground and lifted her other leg up.

"So you met Greenberg today," I tried to start conversation.

"Yep. I met Allison too. She seems nice." She dropped her foot back to the ground and literally folded herself in half. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stayed like that.

"Look, I said sorry about that. I didn't mean for her to be rude to you."

"No, you just meant for her to ask me and my brother invasive questions. Do you want to explain that to me?" she snapped, unfolding from her stretch so quickly that I could feel the wind coming off her tiny body.

"Umm…."

"I didn't think so, Stiles. Come on." Then, just like that, she was gone. She took off running down the path and I dropped my leg to run after her. My legs burned but I caught up to her, panting while I did.

"She was just curious about you. She's an archer!" I panted.

"She's a Hunter. And I don't know what that means but I know it means she doesn't trust us, and we don't trust people who don't trust us. Understand?" she snapped.

"Look, I trust you. There's just a lot around here that scares us, that scares everybody, okay? There's a lot other people don't know, Carter. You just got here."

"And you just met me, yet your friends think my brother and I are dangerous? We came here to have a better life. You don't think we're scared? We've been here two days and you and your friends watch us like we've done something wrong!"

I didn't know how she was maintaining running speed and managing to shout at me, but she was amazing at both of those things. I argued, "We're curious. Not suspicious."

"Bullshit!"

"Look, Carter, can you please slow down?"

"Fuck off!"

"Look, I'm just trying to…" And then my ankle gave out and, for the second time since I first saw Carter Erickson, I ended up sprawled on the ground in front of her. Well, behind her. She looked back at where I was laying and the thud of her footsteps slowed down until she came to a ragged stop down the path. She turned and looked at me, pulling one pink lip in between her teeth and nibbling on it.

"I think I twisted my ankle." I didn't have much more than the pity card at that moment. Her eyebrows knotted together and she frowned deeper. With an aggravated sigh, she turned and jogged back to me. She knelt beside me on the ground and studied my ankle.

"We all have secrets, Carter. You have them too. And if you're okay with me not telling you every single detail of my life, I'm okay with you not telling me every single detail of yours. So can we just forget about this thing with Allison and try to be friends?"

Her eyes met mine and she agreed, "We can try to be friends. And you don't ask invasive questions and I don't ask invasive questions. Deal?"

"Deal. Though I have one more invasive question."

"Stiles," she warned.

"Just one. What is up with Greenberg? I mean, come on, really? Greenberg?"

"One, your ankle is fine. You cramped because you didn't stretch enough. Two, what's wrong with Jason? He's nice!" she objected. She stood up and extended her hand to help me up.

"He's too nice. The guy is like grossly nice. He tries disgustingly hard to please people."

"It wouldn't hurt you to take a lesson or two from him. Come on. We'll talk when we get to the center. Not before then. And don't think you're going to get out of running just because you faked an ankle injury, you little whiner." With that, she took off again.

We made it to the center of the woods and Carter immediately dropped into stretches, closing her eyes and letting her long, light eyelashes fan over her cheeks. I cleared my throat and asked, "So, really Greenberg?"

"He's nice," she answered without opening her eyes. "Out of all the boys I've met at Beacon Hills so far, he's the only straight one with honest intentions."

"Hey!"

"Straight, dishonest intentions. We both know that, Stretch. Don't get your panties in a knot."

"Because we're not asking each other invasive questions, I'm not going to ask how you know how to read people so well."

"And because we're not asking each other invasive questions, I'm not going to ask you how you put up with Isaac Lahey and Scott McCall," she retorted.

"With a lot of patience," I muttered under my breath. While she was bent over in a stretch, I scanned the woods for any sight of Isaac's furry ass. I didn't see any so I bent back into a crouch. After stretching, I followed Carter's adorable ass back to her house. She beat me again. She was way too fast for me to ever catch up with her. Mentally or physically. Back at her house, her mom was cooking and called out a brief hello to us, but, that time, Carter knew better than stopping for introductions.

"Mom, I'm changing in my room and Stiles is changing in the bathroom!" she called out.

"Okay, but if you decide to change both of you in your room, you know that there's condoms in the top drawer of your dresser."

I could feel the embarrassment rolling off of her in waves but I followed her up the stairs nonetheless. She pointed me towards the bathroom and then disappeared into her bedroom at the end of the hall to change. I changed quickly and knocked on her door. When she called out that I could come in, I walked into the most beautiful girl's room I'd ever seen, with the exclusion of Lydia's. The walls were purple and blue with constellations painted across the ceiling. Accurate constellations. Constellations that actually hung in the sky, and her walls were decorated with posters of Star Wars and Star Trek and Doctor Who and inspirational quotes. In the middle of her floor, not touching any walls, was a bed with a blue silk canopy. The rest of the room was occupied by a desk, a bean bag chair, and a dresser with a stereo on top. Carter was tucked into her beanbag chair with her tiny feet pushed underneath her and a book in her hands. She'd changed into a tank top and a pair of yoga pants. Her hair was wild down around her face. She kind of looked amazing.

"Your room is freaking amazing, dude!" I cheered as I pushed the canopy curtains aside and sat down on her bed.

"Thank you. Don't sit on my pillow or I'll break your ankle for real."

I laughed and collapsed backwards onto her bed. I asked, "How do you do this every day? Running? Six miles? Don't you ever take a break?"

"Sundays." She opened her book and looked down at the pages with a soft smile on her face.

"Sundays?" I repeated. "What do you do?"

"Well, I start by sleeping all day. I don't wake up until one or two. And Mom and Bri let me because it's my day to get readjusted with myself. It's the mental health part of healthy body, healthy mind, healthy soul. Then, I take a long, hot bubble bath." She closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose happily. "And when I get out, I eat whatever I want, and then I go for a long walk in the woods. I just reconnect with who I am. Mom and Bri do it too."

"Wow. That sounds really well balanced. You guys are like, the perfect family."

She snorted and her mom yelled, "Carter, Stiles, dinner!"

I followed her downstairs to the kitchen where Brian and her mom were sitting at opposite ends of the table, putting Carter and I across from each other. As soon as we say down, her mom demanded, "Stiles, do you pray?"

There were times when I would have lied. Said of course I prayed. Who didn't pray? But I got the feeling that lying to the Ericksons wouldn't do me any good. So I answered honestly, "No, ma'am."

"None of that now. I've told you, call me Morgan. We don't pray either. But we fake it when other people come in. You know, we try to make them more comfortable." Carter sighed in exasperation. "Now, we don't serve others so you'll have to get food for yourself. I don't know what you usually eat but…oh, it's fast food. You generally eat fast food, don't you?"

I understood why Carter and Brian didn't naturally talk a lot. They weren't used to getting a word in around their mom. While Morgan continued talking, Brian and Carter started serving themselves. "You look good for being a fast food eater. But this is healthy food. There's a fresh green salad with a raspberry vinaigrette, baked chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, and whole wheat rolls. We considered going vegan for a while but Brian and Carter would just turn to fast food to get their meat."

"Serve yourself while she's talking or the food will be cold by the time she stops," Brian informed me around the bite of salad in his mouth. I did as he said and Carter put food on her mom's plate. Morgan continued talking about the benefits of healthy eating and I started eating, zoning in and out on what she was saying.

"Stress is too much a part of teenager's lives." At this point, Brian and Carter were chiming into her conversation with questions for each other and for me. When they did, Morgan paused and listened intently to the questions and answers. Even with the amount of talking she did, she completely stopped whenever her kids started. "Risk taking is at an all-time high during adolescence and one of the highest risks a teenager can take is sexual exploration."

"Mom, this is not a dinner conversation," Brian warned.

"Hush, Bri. He's still a virgin. It's not like I'm going to ask about his sexual experiences." I could feel my mouth hanging open but I couldn't close it and, across the table, Carter's face matched mine. "Anyway, he likes the dinner. We're close as a family."

"Too close sometimes," Brian muttered.

"No sex talk at the table!" Carter commanded. "I know where you're going with this and we are not going there. If you have to talk, tell him about your job or something!"

"I would love to hear about your job!" I spoke up quickly.

"Okay! I'm a dental assistant but I'm starting college classes next week to be a dentist. I'm a little old but it'll be fun and I have my little geniuses to help me if I have trouble." Morgan smiled at Carter and Brian and I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that she was a dental assistant. The mysterious, mind reading, talkative mother cleaned teeth for a living. And I listened with utter fascination while she talked about classes and procedures and plans for dentistry. The woman could have cosplayed as Morticia Addams, yet she dressed in scrubs every day and went to work.

At the end of dinner, Morgan and Brian said their goodbyes and Carter walked me to the door. She apologized, "I am so sorry."

"Nah, don't apologize. She's great. She really loves you guys."

"We really love her too." Carter's grimace faded into a soft smile.

"And, anyway, the awkward makes up for Allison this morning." She grinned again and I excused, "See you tomorrow, Carter."

"Bye, Stiles."

That night, Carter showed up in my nightmares for the first time. She and Morgan were chanting. Just standing around me, chanting. I woke up screaming.


	9. Chapter 9

"He still hasn't called, "Danny sighed. It was Wednesday of our second week in Beacon Hills and we were sitting on the car hood again. Danny was lamenting his ex Ethan, Brian was lamenting not being able to speak to the strawberry blonde double person (Lydia), and I was eating M&Ms.

"You should date somebody else then. Get back out there," I interjected.

"It's only been three weeks," Danny argued. "Maybe he's just been busy. He lived a weird life."

"Too busy to text?" Brian spoke up. "Nobody is **that** busy. Carter gets at least one a day from Stiles and Greenberg texts her at least three times a night whether she replies or not. And meanwhile, I get none."

"Drama queen," I accused, though he wasn't entirely incorrect. Stiles ran with me every day except Saturday and Sunday. Jason texted me regularly to ask about Government homework or just to attempt a conversation. Then, Stiles joined us at the car on days he wasn't with the shadow people. And Jason walked me from my locker to French, from lunch to Government, and from Government to free period. The only reason he didn't join us in the mornings was because he rode the bus and arrived just as the bell was ringing.

"I text you like every four hours" Danny protested. He was just as good of a friend to Brian as he was to me and he'd even gone as far as to introduce Brian to other people so that he wouldn't just be with me all the time.

"Danny, you are a beautiful man, but I don't swing your way," Bri retorted. "Though, if I spend much more time alone, I'll call you up for a sleepover."

"I'm a cuddler."

"I'm the big spoon."

I rolled my eyes as Stiles walked over and asked, "Who are you spooning?"

"Danny," Brian answered casually. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Very little," Stiles admitted. In a week, he learned not to lie to us. As promised, he didn't ask how we knew he was lying and we didn't ask why he was having such God awful nightmares.

"I figured." I grabbed my backpack and handed him an energy drink from the depths of it. "Here, Brian and I stopped to get gas this morning and I got you one."

"Oh my god, I love you, Carter Elizabeth Erickson," Stiles groaned as he popped open the can.

"Two things, Carter. One, what did you get me?" Danny demanded. "Two, your parents named you Carter Elizabeth and you go by Carter?

I dug a chocolate milk from my bag to hand to him and replied, "I like Carter better."

Brian chose my name out of a list of names Mom gave him when he was five years old. The bell rang and we slid off the hood. We were headed inside when Stiles grabbed my arm and pulled me back roughly. I growled, "Stiles, we haven't known each other long enough for you to rip my arm out of my socket. Be gentle there, Stretch."

"I need you to help me with something." I looked up at his face and searched it quickly, but it was blank. A few moments before, it had been expressive, if tired, but at that point, it was just blank. I had to go off the tone of his voice. He was frantic.

"Alright, where are we going?"

"My Jeep. We need to go to my house. I need your help."

I'd never been in Stiles' Jeep before but it was pretty basic. I kept my focus on him. I asked, "What's going on, Stiles? What do you need help with?"

We were speeding down the road. Stiles' hands were tight on the wheel. His knuckles were glowing white. "We have to close it."

"Close what?" I looked out the window at the scenery blurring past.

"We have to close it, Carter."

I looked back at him and found his burning brown eyes on me. He repeated, "We have to close it, Carter."

"Stiles, maybe you should slow down. We're going really fast." Dad died in a car accident. Brian died in a car accident. I stared at the road and noticed the curve coming up.

"Carter, we have to close it."

"Stiles, there's a curve! Pay attention to the curve!"

We were on the curve and Stiles jerked the wheel hard. The jeep flipped, rolling three times before landing on its wheels. My head ached, my body ached. I was sure I'd hit my head off the window. Blood ran down Stiles face as he turned to face me and repeated, 'We have to close it, Carter."

"What, Stiles?" I groaned. "What do we have to close?"

He finally answered, "The door, Carter. We have to close the door. The door. We have to close the door. We have to close the door. We have to close the door."

I sat straight up in my bed, screaming as loud as I could. Brian and Mom's footsteps pounded down the hall and into my bedroom. Brian reached me first and grabbed my shoulders. He pulled me tight against his body and cried out, "Mom, get the lights!"

Mom turned on the lights and raced to my other side. Together, they held me in silence until my screaming quieted down. When it did, I said quickly, "Mom, I just need Bri right now. I had another car accident dream."

"Oh, honey bunny. Everything's okay," she assured me gently. "We're all here safe."

She pressed a kiss to my forehead and left the room. When the door was securely closed behind her and her footsteps had faded down the hall, Brian released me and demanded, "What happened?"

"Does the phrase 'We have to close the door' mean anything to you?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Because the nightmare I just had was of Stiles repeating that exact phrase while we were in a car wreck. And, I don't think it was just a nightmare, Bri. It was definitely something more."

"Like the second sight thing?"

"I don't have second sight, despite what Mom says. If I did, I would have seen you die before it was happening, not while it was happening. But yes, kind of. Because that wasn't just a nightmare, Brian. That was a message from the rift and I don't know what it meant. But it scares the shit out of me."

Brian leaned forward and hugged me again, tight and protective. He sighed, "We shouldn't have come here. The rift here wasn't opened naturally."

"Bri, it's strongest here. Here is our best chance of survival. It doesn't take as much work to keep us both alive here."

"We're going to get to the bottom of this," he promised. "For now, go back to sleep. I'm here. I'll be here all night."

I laid back down and Brian moved to the beanbag chair to watch over me while I slept.

**Stiles**

I didn't bother knocking, I didn't check to see who was up, or what the danger level was. I rushed into the McCall house, up the stairs, and into Scott's room. I scared the shit out of him when I yelled, "Dude, wake up now!"

Scott jerked out of bed and landed hard on the floor. He sputtered, "What's going on? Who needs killed?"

That took me by surprise and I stepped back for a second. "What?"

"Huh?" he said innocently as he stood up.

"I'm going to ignore the murderous rage you apparently go through in your sleep because there are more important things than your need for therapy right now."

"What's going on?" Scott mumbled as Isaac rushed in, eyes glowing, only wearing his boxers, and holding a bat.

"What's wrong!?"

"Dude, you're a werewolf. Why do you have a bat?"

"What?"

"Oh my god. Is everybody crazy?"

"What's going on?" Scott asked again as he stood up and reached out to grab the bat from Isaac. Isaac's eyes returned to normal and he handed the bat over without argument.

"I had a nightmare again."

"And you came running over here shouting?" Isaac interrupted, earning a deadly glare from me.

"It wasn't my nightmare this time! This wasn't like what usually happens where I see the tree and Lydia and blood and death. I didn't dream this. I think I reached into her nightmare. For some reason, my subconscious reached out and contacted her through a nightmare."

"Stop for a minute, Stiles," Scott ordered. "Sit down and talk while I get dressed."

I sat on the edge of his bed and he walked over to his dresser to pull clothes out of it. I kept talking, "Seriously though. Nightmares are centered around what scares that person. That individual person. But a car wreck isn't my nightmare. Car accidents don't scare me because I've never lost somebody because of a vehicle. My nightmares have to do with slow death or somebody getting torn to pieces or something like that. My nightmares have nothing to do with me wrecking my jeep. I wasn't making sense. It was like I was on autopilot! I wasn't in control. I was just the messenger!"

"Okay, so you think you were in somebody else's nightmare. Whose?" Scott demanded while he pulled a shirt on.

"This is going to sound stupid. So I need you not to judge until you've heard the entire story."

"I won't," Scott promised.

"I probably will," Isaac admitted, earning a glare from me and Scott that time.

"Go ahead. Whose nightmare do you think you were in?"

I took a deep breath and announced, "Carter's. I think I was in Carter Erickson's nightmare and I think I took over it to tell her to close a door."


	10. Chapter 10

They both stared at me and Scott said slowly, "So you had a nightmare with Carter in it and you think it wasn't yours?"

"Yes!" I cried out. "Look, I know it sounds stupid but here are the facts. The entire nightmare, I didn't feel like myself, which sounds normal for a dream but I didn't feel like myself because I wasn't myself. I was seeing everything from Carter's point of view. I was just kind of a robot and everything that happened were things she's afraid of."

"What do you mean?" Isaac asked, finally contributing to the conversation.

"She's afraid of losing her brother and the first thing that happened was that he walked away. She's afraid of car wrecks because her dad died after being hit by a car. And, something happened to Brian in a car. I didn't understand what that meant. But we were in my Jeep and I was telling her that we need to close the door and she was getting more and more scared. Then, we wrecked and she screamed and the dream ended and I woke up."

They both just stared at me. Scott said slowly, "Dude, you've been hanging out with her a lot. Maybe it was just a nightmare. You've been having them a lot lately."

"Scott, this wasn't just a nightmare! This was Carter's worst nightmare. This is what she's the most afraid of. And I dreamt it. I was inside her head. And it was terrifying. I didn't understand a lot of what she meant or why she did things but I was in her nightmare."

"I thought you said they were normal?" Isaac asked. "I mean, you were able to get into her nightmare. You opened a door when you guys lit the beacon again. Maybe she has a door too and you walked through it, into her nightmare."

"That….actually makes a lot of sense, Isaac."

"Did you just agree with Isaac?" Scott demanded. "Are you sure you're not still asleep?"

I looked down and counted my fingers quickly before I replied, "I'm sure I'm not asleep. But it does make a lot of sense. Scott, if she has a door open too, it could explain why you guys get a weird feeling from her and her brother."

"Except we don't get a weird feeling from her," Isaac interrupted. "Yeah, she's weird. But it's only her brother that I feel weird around."

"Well, keep burying your feelings for Brian then because it's Carter whose dream I was in."

"Have you talked to her yet today?" Scott questioned.

"No. I haven't seen her since last night. But I'm serious, Scott. Right before Carter's nightmare, I walked through a door in my dream, and, next thing I know, I'm standing there talking to Carter and it became her nightmare. I literally walked out of my dream and into hers."

"Okay, assuming it's all true, assuming you walked through a door and into Carter Erickson's mind, there's only one question that matters," Scott answered.

"Why does she have a door open in her mind?" Isaac finished for him.

"I don't know but there's not really a good way of asking her. I can't walk up and say, 'Hey, Carter, great run last night. B-T-dubs, did I walk through a door into your nightmares last night? You know, a nightmare where I almost killed you in my jeep?' Yeah, Scott, that will go great. She just got comfortable with me. I'm not wrecking that."

"Stiles, we know you like her, but…"

"It's not like that," I interrupted Scott. "Carter isn't Lydia. This isn't me having a crush on a girl. This is me protecting a friend who has had a rough life and needs a good friend. It's something all of us know about. I'm not going to throw that away."

Carter wasn't an open book and I didn't expect her to be. We'd only known each other for two weeks. But she let things drop. When Brian was sick, a time I didn't know a lot about, their lives stopped. Carter was 11 when it started and almost 16 when it ended. They moved from Florida, where she was born, to the East coast for her brother's health. Within a year, she lost all of her friends, her chance for dates, her sense of normalcy. Morgan pulled her out of school and homeschooled both of them. Carter didn't have friends or dates or socialization. Then, when she was adjusting to that, Morgan bounced them to Beacon Hills and threw her back into it. Carter needed normal at Beacon Hills.

"You know a lot about her," Isaac commented.

"Oh shut up. Of course I know a lot about her. I've been spending five days a week with her for two weeks now. I'm sure you know a ton about Allison too. My point is, what's going on if there's a door open in her head? Look what it's doing to us. What is it doing to her?"

"I don't know, Stiles, but let's give it a week or so," Scott calmed me. "Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe she's fine. You haven't seen her. You don't know."

"Maybe it's time for us to talk to her," Isaac interjected. "We've been avoiding her because it makes her uncomfortable. Because, as Stiles says, she can't read us. Maybe we just need to give her something to read."

"Absolutely not, wolf boy. She's not a werewolf; she's not a hunter; she's not your business. Leave her alone or I'll turn you into a rug. Do you understand me?"

"Calm down and go eat something while we get ready," Scott commanded. "We're not going to scare her. We're going to wait this one out."

I avoided everybody that morning. As soon as Brian parked the car, I leapt out, called a quick hello over my shoulder to Danny, and raced inside the building to hide in the bathroom. I was exhausted, a little scared, and very confused. I was in the stall for ten seconds when my phone buzzed with a text from Brian. "I told Danny you're having your period. The plan isn't to avoid Stiles."

"I don't care about the plan. I just can't handle things this early in the morning," I replied.

I stayed in the bathroom and played a word game on my phone until first bell rang. Then, I crept to first period. I was tired, stressed, and agitated. I wanted to be at home where I didn't feel brittle. I barely made it through French awake. Afterwards, Jason met me at my locker, like always, and I was in a fog while he talked. For the fifth or sixth time, Jason repeated, "Are you okay, Carter?"

"Hmm?" I shook myself out of my walking sleep again. Like always, Jason was carrying my backpack slung over one shoulder and his soft green eyes were focused on my face.

"Are you okay? You seem like you feel awful. I mean, you look great, like always, but you seem like you don't feel good. Are you alright? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine, Jason. I just didn't sleep that great. What were you talking about?"

"I was actually asking what you're doing on Friday. This Friday. What are you doing this Friday?" He was embarrassed, nervous, apprehensive. But hopeful. The fog was lifted and I was suddenly very, very alert and very, very, nervous.

"I don't have any plans right now. And I don't have plans to make plans. I don't do much on Fridays or weekends. So, you know, no plans." I was rambling like a damn idiot. I brought my brother back from the dead, yet I couldn't be asked out by a guy I was decently attracted to without wanting to throw up on his shoes.

"Well, do you want to do something this Friday, or Saturday? I mean, not just something. Like bowling. We could go bowling. You said you liked bowling. Do you want to go bowling? With me? On Friday or Saturday?"

"Yes." I answered too quickly. He barely had the words out of his mouth before I was almost shouting my answer at him.

"What?" Unbelieving, hopeful, shocked. We'd both stopped in the middle of the hall and we were staring at each other.

'Yes, I want to go bowling, with you, on Saturday."

"Yeah?"

'Yeah. What time?"

"umm…I didn't plan this far ahead," he admitted. "Can I tell you more later?"

"Yeah, please do."

"Okay." We continued walking, grins on both of our faces, and it happened. Later, when I had to explain to Mom what happened, I cited lack of sleep and increased adrenaline from being asked out for the first time ever as causes for my increased violence levels.

I should have realized sooner that there was going to be a hand on my ass. I should have realized sooner that there was somebody close behind me and that the three guys walking behind us were snickering. But I was too full of everything. Anxiety and happiness and adrenaline. So, when the firm grip of a too big hand found my ass, I yelped and whirled around to face my harasser, who wasn't staring at me.

"Damn, Greenberg, I see why you like her. She's got an ass on her." Unfortunately for the lacrosse team oaf, that was the last thing he said before I hit him. I put everything I was feeling into the punch and it erupted up my arm while his head snapped to the side, but I didn't give myself time to think about it. I was just so mad. I followed through with the other arm and he swayed a little. It was overkill to sweep his legs out from under him, but I was tired of reaching up to hit him.

"Carter!" Jason cried out from behind me but I was past hearing. I just jumped the big asshole. He didn't know what to do with a girl and he was already slightly dazed from the first two punches and from landing on his ass. So I was able to just keep hitting him. I hadn't been violent in a very long time. I was a good girl. I was a good girl that brought her brother back from the dead. I was a good girl that ran every day and ate healthy and did her homework and behaved herself. I was a good girl who kept herself locked away from society for five years while she and her mother figured out how to bring Brian back. I was a tired, frustrated, angry good girl that had been having an amazing moment that lit up her day when a complete asshole decided to break it up.

"Carter!" the other voice in my head briefly registered as Stiles but I didn't care. I kept hitting the idiot on the ground below me. The blood blurred any personality traits on his face. I'd broken his nose. I was on the verge of breaking his jaw. One, two, maybe three more punches and he'd have to have it locked shut.

"Carter!" Somebody grabbed me and I shoved them off before I went back to what I was doing.

"Don't. Ever. Fucking. Touch. Me. Again," I snarled. It was the first and last thing I said before I was dragged off. A strong pair of arms came down around my shoulders and I found myself sliding backwards off of the oaf on the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me, now!" I screamed it, my voice echoed down the halls and everybody fell silent. I whirled around to find myself face to chest with Isaac Lahey, the blonde shadow boy. He tightened his grip on my upper arms and I was scared, so I leaned up on my toes and head butted him as hard as I could. His nose broke quickly and disgustingly, spraying me with warm, salty blood. He cried out and I watched a glimmer slide over his eyes. Blue to gold to blue. There was a glow in the middle. He pinched his nose and I could almost hear the bone shifting back into place. I could see the healing happen. I stepped back quickly and looked around me.

I was surrounded. There were people all around me, watching me, worried, amused, scared, but silent. They were all completely silent. Danny and Stiles stared at me. There was blood smeared across Danny's chest and I knew he was the one who tried to drag me off at first, the one I shoved. Stiles' mouth hung open in shock. I could hear the rubber thud of the principal's shiny black shoes on the tile floor as he raced down the connecting hallway, coming to break up the fight that had ended already. Then, the boy on the floor groaned and murmurs broke out among the spectators. The principal arrived way too late and his voice filled the hall when he shouted, "What is going on?"


	11. Chapter 11

***Hey, guys! I'm totally appreciative of reviews, whether they're all happiness and love, or whether they're respectful criticism. Now, I will never deny an update because I get fewer reviews, but I may update early if I get more reviews. So there's no consequence for not reviewing, but there is a reward! So, you know, please review. Pretty please! ***

It was Jason that took up for me first, "She was just defending herself! He sexually harassed her! He grabbed her and it scared her!"

"He's right," Isaac agreed, his tone dry, bitter, and matter-of-fact. "It was self-defense."

He looked down at me. There was blood down my arms, soaking the front of my shirt and staining my fingernails. There was blood across the front of my shirt from Isaac's nose and I could feel the blood across my face. It was clearly not self-defense. He snapped, "My office. Now. Mr. Lahey, please pick up Mr. Bruger from the floor and take him to the nurse's office. Everybody else, go to class!"

I followed him slowly and steadily to his office. He was kind enough to let me wash the blood off of my arms and face and to change my shirt into one of the school ones they had lying around. In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. At the way blood streaked across my cheek. At the way my eyes were still wild and exhausted with dark circles beneath them and my red hair created a halo around my head. At the way I was everything I hated. At the way I was out of balance with nature, my nature, my family's nature. I didn't look at myself again the rest of the time I was changing. By the time I was done, the principal had already called Mom and I gave him a calm breakdown of what had happened, making it very clear that I was only standing up for my rights as a scared young woman.

Mom, as was her nature, arrived in a violent explosion of dramatics and anger. I was calmly repeating that it was well within my rights to protect my body from the unwanted advances of others, when the door flew open with a violent bang and Mom's shadow filled the room. The first thing she shouted was, "My baby girl gets sexually assaulted by somebody three times her size and you drag her to the principal's office? What kind of school are you running here? What are you doing?"

"Hey, Mom," I greeted with the first smile since I'd been dragged into the office.

"Hey, honey bunny. What are you wearing? Did you have to change? Did they make you change your clothes too? So first she can't keep somebody from manhandling her and now you're oppressing her sense of self by forcing her into that shirt?"

"Umm….Ms. Erickson….she's….well, she….you have to know that she…."

"Please, explain to me what she did! Because I would love to know!" Mom dramatically threw herself into the chair next to me and waved her hand dismissively at him.

"Well, Ms. Erickson, although Carter was defending herself, and we acknowledge that she should not be punished for that, she went overboard with defending herself and the school tends to have a no tolerance for violence policy."

"Overboard!? How do you go overboard with self-defense? My Carter is the least violent person I know! She is in tune with the natural world and with herself! She doesn't need to hurt people."

"She broke his nose and was a little away from breaking his jaw," the principal informed her. "When two students attempted to intervene, she shoved one of them away and head butted the other in the face, which is why she is no longer wearing the clothes she wore to school today. She had blood all over herself. Ms. Erickson, Carter didn't just defend herself. It is our belief that she over defended herself, and there has to be consequences for those actions."

Mom looked over at me with one eyebrow raised. I replied, "I continued to feel threatened. I firmly believe that, had I not done what I did, my personage would have been in danger of further harm."

"Well, baby doll, I support you. If you felt like you were in danger, you must have been in danger!"

"Ms. Erickson…"

"No! You listen to me, sir. I understand that my little girl didn't have to break somebody's nose to get her point across. She could have done it a different way. But you need to understand that my Carter is miniscule compared to the people here! I walked through these hallways! Your students are monstrous! Look at my little girl! I give my permission for a punishment to be doled out, but I will tell you right now that it will not be suspension. Her academics will not suffer simply because she felt threatened in a place that is meant to be safe!"

"Umm….well, ma'am, the general punishment is suspension." Mom raised her eyebrow at him and his face twisted with the distinct impression that it would be a terrible idea to suspend me. "But, because you make a good point about Carter's safety, she will be allowed to serve detention instead."

"When?"

"Well…" He was genuinely frightened about saying the wrong thing to Mom and pissing her off even further. "I don't want to keep her after school every day, but I feel that she should have to stay after school at least two days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays, for two weeks. And she will serve her detention during school hours the rest of the days. Study hall and lunch detention for two weeks will serve as an acceptable punishment."

Mom nodded happily and replied, "I can accept that. What else do you need?"

"Just for you to sign some papers and then Carter can go back to class."

"After the spectacle today? I think not! She'll come home with me. And while I'm here to get her, Brian will come home as well. No point in making one stay while the other is at home."

"Now, Ms. Erickson, Brian isn't being punished. Brian wasn't even near when…"

"I will sign your papers and then you will call my son to the office so that I can take my family home."

**Stiles **

"Stiles, you can't defend this one!" Isaac cried out. "Bruger is literally three times her size! Literally! He could eat her if he wanted to! And she destroyed him! Then, she broke my nose! How are you going to say this is normal?"

"Bruger assaulted her! He grabbed her ass! She had the right to hit him," I argued. "And you grabbed her too. It freaked her out. You already freak her out!"

"She was a couple punches away from breaking his jaw! And she wanted to. And did you hear the shout? That wasn't a girl shout. That was a roar like Derek's or Scott's! That was an Alpha roar!" Isaac argued.

"He's right," Scott agreed. "I was across the school and I felt it. I didn't hear it. It felt it."

"She literally made forty teenagers shut up," Isaac added. "If that's what normal's like, then we've been doing it wrong for years."

I sighed. With the dream that morning and Carter kicking the ass of somebody three times her size, they were never going to give up on her being dangerous. She'd gone from an interesting new person, to a possible threat within four hours. I admitted, "I know. But I really don't think she's a danger to us. Yeah, she's probably as dangerous as Allison, but we trust her now! Maybe there's a reason she was off today. The last person she was with was Greenberg. Maybe he knows something."

"That's a good idea. We can find Greenberg. Stiles, can you get into the school network?" Scott asked.

I winced and informed them, "I actually know where he is."

Isaac and Stiles' faces contorted into a mix of surprise and trying not to laugh. I snapped, "Oh shut up! I only know because he has government with Carter third period. I had to have her schedule memorized, remember?"

"Right. Well, come on," Scott commanded.

We slipped out of the study hall as stealthily as we could and split up. Scott and Isaac went to the locker room, I went to the Government class. I peeked in the door and called out, "Mr. Keys?"

"What, Stilenski?" The teacher didn't even look up from writing on the board.

"Coach wants to see Greenberg." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized exactly why that was a questionable statement.

"Really?" Mr. Keys asked drily. Greenberg's face lit up in a pathetic, sad way.

"Yep. Something about training. I don't know. Can he just hurry up, please?"

"Greenberg, go. Take your stuff. Don't interrupt my class again."

Greenberg grabbed his stuff and shoved it messily in his backpack before he leapt up and followed me out of the room. He asked, "What does the coach want?"

"I don't know, Greenberg. Just come on." The guy was so freaking happy that I almost felt bad for throwing him to the werewolves.

"Okay. I hope I don't miss too much in Government though. I already have a rough time in there and, without Carter being there today, I don't know how I'll catch up."

"Yeah, that sucks, Greenberg." It took me a second to remember that not all of our problems had to be dealt with by violence. Not all of our problems took werewolves. "But actually, that's what I need to talk to you about. I'll be honest. Coach doesn't want to talk to you. Probably not ever, actually. I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh…okay." We stopped in the middle of the hallway, a bit down from the locker room.

"What happened today, with Carter? I know you've only known her for as long as I have but, she's not exactly a violent person. What was wrong with her today?"

"I think she was having an off day," Greenberg didn't hesitate to talk about her. "She said she didn't get a lot of sleep and I really think it put her in an off mood. It was just almost impossible to talk to her. She wasn't in a bad mood. Just kind of really out of it. And then she was in a really bad mood because Bruger grabbed her."

"Wait, she didn't get a lot of sleep? Did she say why?"

"No, she didn't say why. But I think she had a bad dream. You know when you have a bad dream and you just can't get it out of your head? I think that's what was going on with her."

"Well, Greenberg, thank you. I really need to get hold of her. Check up on her. I want to make sure she's okay. That she didn't get hurt when she was hitting Bruger. You know, recoil and stuff."

"Oh, yeah. I need to text her too. I need to see if we're still going on a date on Saturday. I didn't get to tell her what time I'm picking her up."

I choked, actually choked. "Date?"

"Yeah. I can't believe she actually said yes, but she did. We're going out on Saturday. Nothing too big. Just bowling. But she actually said yes!" He grinned and I smiled back at him.

"I'll congratulate her when I call her but I have to go right now. You should enjoy not being in Government. Go do something fun. I have a study group I have to get to. If you get hold of Carter before me, you should let me know."

"Okay, I think I'm just going to go study in the library. See you later!"

"Right. Good use of your free time." He walked off and I went to the locker room where Scott and Isaac were waiting.


	12. Chapter 12

***Okay, guys, I'm begging now. I can see that the story is gaining followers but it makes me nervous that nobody is reviewing. I might just be spoiled because the TWD fandom is so vocal, but I'd love to hear from you guys some! Please!* **

"Where's Greenberg?" Isaac asked as soon as I made it through the door.

"Well, luckily for us, I realized that Greenberg doesn't need intimidated. He's not a wolf threat, he's just an idiot who really, really likes Carter. And he doesn't need any threats to talk about her. He will literally tell you anything you want if you just ask."

"And?" Scott prompted.

"She was in a bad mood because she had a bad dream last night and she didn't get enough sleep. So, from that we can deduce…"

"You actually did walk through her nightmare," Isaac said quickly. "So she really does have a door open in her mind!"

"Yes. And it put her in a bad mood and, because of that, she just about destroyed Kevin Bruger."

"Okay, so we know we definitely need to talk to her," Scott decided.

"No, I definitely need to talk to her. You two need to stay away from her. If you approach her, she's going to feel threatened and she will freak out. I'll talk to her." I pulled out my phone to send her a text.

"Stiles, she beat Bruger's ass and he's twice your size. What do you think is going to happen to you?" Isaac pointed out.

"She won't try to kill me because she trusts me. Because I am not a werewolf and I am her friend." I sent _Hey, sorry about what happened. Still running tonight?_

"Well, I still want one of us there. Me or Isaac in the woods. That's the only choice."

"Well, definitely not him. So you for sure." My phone dinged and I read the text quickly. _Can't tonight. Not feeling well. See you at school._ "Unless she cancels. Then we'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"Did she just cancel?" Isaac asked.

"Yes, she did. So we will be talking to her tomorrow. I, I will be talking to her tomorrow," I corrected. "The two of you are going to stay far, far away from her."

"Why did she cancel?"

"Probably had something to do with the fact that she broke two people's noses today and she's a little sore," Isaac said bitterly.

"Whatever it is, I can't make her talk to me, and I won't. So your wolf asses are going to have to wait until tomorrow."

"Fine," Isaac sighed in irritation.

But tomorrow wasn't a good day. The next day was the day I had the final nightmare. The one that broke the camel's back. The nightmare that I woke from unable to read and unable to comprehend. The nightmare that gave me the sign language. The nightmare that took us to Deaton's clinic. The nightmare that told me I was going to have to close that fucking door in my mind.

"Having an opening into your mind like that, it's not good. You each need to close that door, and you need to do it as soon as possible." Deaton's warning wasn't just for us. It didn't only have meaning for us. It had meaning for the miniscule red head who hadn't been at school that day, who hadn't answered any of my texts, but had showed up in my nightmares for the third night in the row. Scott and I prepared to leave but I couldn't stop thinking about what it meant for Carter to be like that.

"Deaton, before we go, I need to ask you something," I said quietly as I could, knowing that Scott would be able to hear me no matter how quiet the whisper.

"Yeah, what do you need, Stiles?"

"How does a door open? Other than the way we opened it? Are there any other ways?" I questioned.

"The door opened because you accepted it. You allowed it to open. So, yes and no. There are other ways to open a door, but the end matter is the same. When you accept what happens to you, when you accept what that door means, you open the door, and it's up to you to close it. Why? Do you think somebody else has a door open?"

"Yeah, we do, actually," Scott spoke up. "Well, we think we do. But, first, is there any way for you to walk through the doors into other people's problems? Like their fears or their nightmares?"

"Well, it's an open door from a relative point in time and space. So yes, it is completely possible for people who are connected by the doors to walk through them. Now, who do you know that has a door open?" Deaton repeated.

Scott and I stared at each other. I said slowly, "Well, we're not sure, but we think that there might be a girl who has a door open in her mind. We're not sure, because the only evidence we have is that I showed up in her nightmare. But it doesn't make sense how it would have happened."

"Is she a werewolf?"

"Definitely not," Scott said firmly. "She's just…different. We get a weird feeling around her brother, like an itching. Like we're allergic to him. And she's scared by us. And she's crazy strong."

"Well, it sounds like it could be a hunter," Deaton suggested.

"Not a hunter. We already investigated. The Ericksons are this perfect, normal family who's a little weird but they just love each other so much and…"

"Wait, did you say Ericksons?" Deaton interrupted.

"Yeah. Carter and Brian are our age and their mom, Morgan, is going back to college to be a dentist. They're just really into health."

"Morgan? Morgan Erickson?" Deaton demanded.

"Yeah. Morgan, Brian, and Carter," I repeated.

"I know a Morgan Erickson. Except she got married and moved away from here twenty five years ago. And, the last time I saw Morgan _Donalds_ was at her son, Brian's, funeral," Deaton said slowly.

"That's impossible. I see Brian every day in school."

"Impossible?" Deaton raised his eyebrows. "After all you've seen, after all you've done, you want to say that something is impossible, Stiles?"

"So, Carter Erickson might have a door open in her head and it might be related to her undead brother," Scott said slowly.

"I'm not saying she has an undead brother," Deaton back tracked. "I'm just saying that I really need to talk to Morgan Erickson. Catch up. See what's going on with her. But I'd like you two to stay away for a few days."

"That shouldn't be a problem since she broke a guy's nose and is taking a few days away from everything," I informed him.

"Good. I'll let the two of you know when everything is resolved, okay?"

"Okay. Just, can you promise me something?" I asked.

"What?"

"Can you promise me that she isn't going to get hurt?" I questioned. "I mean, if she's dangerous, I know you have to take measures to protect yourself, but can you please be careful with her? Until she has the chance to explain herself to all of us?"

"The Ericksons aren't dangerous," he promised. "And I could be completely wrong."

"About Brian being dead?" Scott asked.

"Yes, about Brian being dead. Just do whatever the two of you have to do. I'll fill you in if I can."

**Carter**

I looked up at the knock on the door and Brian asked, "Didn't you tell Stiles you weren't running today?"

"Yeah, and I rescheduled my date with Jason, which sucks by the way. I kick somebody's ass one time and it takes me five days for everything to heal." I pushed myself off the couch with a sigh. "Danny maybe? Or somebody for Mom?"

"Does Mom have friends?"

"Fellow student?"

"I don't know. She's in the study. Go look," Brian ordered.

I walked to the door, my bare feet padding gently on the floor. The best thing about not having to go to school was not having to get dressed all day. I could wear yoga pants and a t shirt for as long as I wanted. I opened the door to a muscled, middle aged dark skinned man with a grim look on his face. Calm. Open. Friendly.

"Hey, is your mother home? I'm an old friend," he greeted.

"It depends on who you think my mother is," I answered. It wasn't that I naturally distrusted people. It was that Beacon Hills seemed to be full of people who weren't what they seemed to be.

"Morgan Erickson. Like I said, I'm an old friend." He smiled softly at me.

I leaned away from the door and shouted, "Mom, there's somebody here to see you!"

"Who is it?"

"Don't know!"

"Give me a second, babydoll." A few seconds later, Mom came down the steps with her hair piled on top of her head and ink smeared across her high, perfectly angled cheekbones. She looked past me at the door and stopped dead in her tracks. Worry. Anxiety. Discomfort. Her voice was uneasy when she greeted, "Deaton, I haven't seen you in a while."

"You're right. It's been, five years? Six? The last time I saw your daughter, she was a tiny little thing. Still going through her awkward phase. Do you remember where the last place I saw you was?"

Mom sighed and ordered, "You don't have to do this, Deaton. We're not hurting anybody. You don't have to know. You can just walk away."

"This is my place, Morgan. This is my town. I'm the protector here. I need to know."

I stood frozen in the hallway with my fists clenched and my body tensed, ready to run into the living room, grab Brian, and run. Ready to protect him. Mom said blankly, "I can tell you whatever you want. They just have to be involved. They're part of this and they need to know."

"Well, I'll just invite myself into your kitchen then."

I didn't know what to do. But I understood that if the man, Deaton, was like us, we were going to be in a lot of trouble since what we did was taboo. Mom commanded, "Go get your brother, Carter. Meet us in the kitchen."

"Mom…"

She turned to look at me and promised, "Go get him, baby doll. Everything is going to be okay. We know what to do."

I nodded and went to the living room to get Brian. As soon as he looked at my face, he asked, "Carter, what's going on?"

"There's somebody like us at the door, Mom knows him, and the last time he saw our family was at your funeral," I filled him in quickly. His eyes widened in fright.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know, Bri. But we're going to get it figured out. Come on."

He stood up from the couch and reached out to grab my hand. I squeezed his and he squeezed back, just like he had when I was little and he was about to teach me something fun. A little squeeze for courage, a little squeeze to get all the nerves out. Then, we walked into the kitchen where Deaton was sitting at the kitchen table and Mom was making coffee.


	13. Chapter 13

Brian sat down across the table from Deaton and I went to the coffee pot to get a cup of coffee. I whispered, "Are we in danger?"

"I don't think so, babygirl. We're going to talk to him. We're going to make him see that we had to do it." She reached over and squeezed my hand. We returned to the table and took our seats on either side of the table. Deaton studied Brian curiously. We waited.

"Well, I supposed we should get introductions out of the way. Brian, Carter, I'm Deaton. I met both of you when you were very small. I'm the emissary in this town."

"Emissary?" Brian and I repeated in unison.

"Morgan," Deaton scolded, "they are old enough to know what other things are out there. They're old enough to know about the rest of our world. Why don't they?"

"It's a little hard to send the son that died five years ago and his connection to life out in the world. I'm not supposed to be the one training them, so they haven't learned," Mom said coldly.

"Well, depending on how this conversation goes, this will have to be fixed. Now, why don't the two of you explain to me how the son whose funeral I attended is glaring at me right now?" Deaton suggested.

"Deaton, we couldn't leave him dead," Mom started. "We couldn't lose him. He was all we had."

"Morgan, you're using your teenage daughter's life force to support two people. What's that like for her? The consequences for her must be unholy. There are reasons that bringing people back isn't done anymore. Because, generally, an entire human sacrifice is used just to replenish life force. How did you even learn to split it like that?"

"Research. A lot of research," Mom informed him. "We knew that we could do it. We just had to get her healthy first. So we spent the majority of the time training. Getting healthy. If I could have done it, I would have."

"So you weren't healthy enough for it to work, so you subjected your daughter to it."

"Subjected?" I repeated. "She didn't subject me to anything. I volunteered. I offered when I found out she couldn't do it. I offered when I found out that it could happen."

"Did you know all of the risks? Did you know what could happen to you?"

"My injuries take longer to heal because my body has depleted energy to heal them, which is why I have to stay healthy. I have to eat more, because my body requires more energy so that I can share it. If I die, it's like an actual sacrifice. Brian completely lives. If he's injured, seriously injured, I die because his body will draw from mine until it can't anymore so that it will heal itself. I'm a well; he's a bucket. And I'm okay with that. I'm happy to do it for the good of my family," I sneered.

"You're sixteen," Deaton pointed out. "You were eleven when you made the choice. How long has he been back?"

"It took us five years to get everything ready and find a rift," Mom spoke up. She reached over and took Brian's hand in hers. In turn, Brian took mine.

"So he was on the other side for five years? And he shares it with her." Deaton pointed to me and Brian nodded. The connection dragged the memories of the white space out of Brian and into me. The connection shared the worst memories of our lives with one another. "And, because she was the one who had to walk over there and get him, the door is still open inside of her."

"The door?" I asked.

"Yes, Carter. When you went to the other side to get Brian back, you opened a door to the rift. A door that makes you more powerful than before. I heard what you did at school. When you defended yourself against that boy. When you shouted in the hallway and, for just a tiny second, everybody around you wanted to listen to you, to do what you say, that's the rift. It tears some people apart. It tears some of our kind apart. But you, you are different. You bathe in the rift. You glow with it. You channel it, which is why it's easier for you here. Which is why it doesn't hurt as bad to keep him alive."

"Yeah, yeah, I know there's a door open in me. But I have a question for you now. You're done interrogating us, got it? We brought Brian back and we're not sending him back over there. He's here now. We didn't ask for anybody's permission because we didn't need it, and we didn't need their help," My voice was cold and hard while I spoke. "We didn't kill anyone. The only thing we did was command the other side to give him back. What I want to know is why there are people here, in Beacon Hills, regular people, walking around like me? Walking around with a door in their heads open to the other side? What is going on here?"

"That, Carter, is a very long story that cannot be answered without teaching you about everything else first. But something you should know is that three of the teenagers here did the same thing you did. They sacrificed themselves as a way of saving others. They're the reason the rift opened. They're relit the beacon."

"Who did?" I demanded.

"You've met them already. Scott, Stiles, and Allison. From what Stiles tells me, the two of you are friends. And apparently, you don't like Scott, Allison, or Isaac. Why is that?"

I looked over at Mom and she asked, "Deaton, can we trust you? My children aren't going to tell you their secrets unless we know that you can be trusted."

"You're safe. Carter chose to bring Brian back and neither of them are hurting anybody. I don't like what you did. I don't approve of it and, had I learned about it years ago, I would have put a stop to it. But it's too late now. The only thing that truly appalls me is that your children haven't been taught how to live in our world. They haven't been taught anything about our world other than the basics, I assume, since they know how to read people."

"You should know that Brian was going to be sent to a friend's house to learn all of this the weekend after he was in a car wreck. Had that not happened, my children would have been more highly educated than any of our kind. And, I take it that you're volunteering to be their teacher from now on?" Mom asked.

"Somebody should do it and tradition says that the parent shouldn't be the one doing the education. But I want to know what they know already. I want to know what they can see on their own, what they can do without anybody helping them."

"But my children are safe?" Mom repeated.

"Yes. They're safe," Deaton promised.

"Go ahead, honey bunny, sweetheart. Tell him what you see. I'm interested in hearing myself. The two of you have never not told me stuff. What have you been keeping from me?"

I looked to Brian and he nodded encouragingly at me. Brian wasn't as connected as I was. Brian wasn't as powerful as I was. I said slowly, "I don't trust them because they're shadow people. Isaac and Scott are, I mean. There's something behind their faces. They're not two people but there's a second part of them and the shadow literally moves. It's a separate part of them. And I don't like Allison because she doesn't like us. She's skeptical of us."

"And the girl Lydia, I like her, but she's not normal either. There's something different about her too," Brian added.

"And Stiles. He has a secret," I spoke in tandem with Brian. "What are they? Scott and Isaac."

"Your mom knows," Deaton informed us. "She's met 'shadow people' as you call them. I'm interested in how you see them. It's only Readers who know what's underneath there."

"What are the shadow people?" Brian and I demanded as one, looking back and forth between Mom and Deaton.

"Werewolves," Mom sighed. "They're werewolves. And they're only one of the things that exists that you've never heard of. I brought you guys to Beacon Hills, knowing that there is pack activity here. Knowing that there's been danger here. Because, even with all of that, this is the best place for you."

"There's a lot of explaining that needs to be done now!" I cried out.

**Stiles**

"We need to talk now!" It was Isaac's first words to us. Scott and I were sitting in his room, talking about Malia and what it could mean. Isaac had been sent to watch over Deaton while he was talking to the Ericksons. Just in case Carter went crazy on Deaton like she did on Bruger.

"What is it, Isaac?"

"They're like Jennifer was! They are dangerous!" Isaac cried out, his voice frantic and rushed. "Deaton said they were like him but she brought Brian back to life! They brought Brian back to life! That's why we get a weird feeling around him! And her! And they can read us!"

"What?" Scott and I said together.

"You have to speak slower," Scott ordered. "You have to calm down so we can understand you."

"So I was doing what you asked me and making sure that Deaton wasn't in danger and I thought that I'd listen in on them and make sure nothing bad was going to happen. And Deaton said that the last time he saw them, Brian was dead. He saw them at Brian's funeral. And Carter and her Mom admitted that they brought him back from death! And now, Deaton is going to teach them how to be more like him!"

"Okay, so we need to go talk to Deaton," Scott decided. "He'll tell us what's going on."

"How are we going to do that? Do you know where he lives?" I pointed out.

"No. But we can trip the alarm in the shelter and he'll show up."

"Well let's do that then."

Thirty minutes later, we were standing in the lobby of the animal shelter when Deaton arrived. He sighed, "I'm going to start letting the cops deal with break ins. I'm going to assume that you're here because Isaac overheard me talking to the Ericksons today. A conversation that was meant to be private."

Isaac looked down at the floor ashamedly. Scott asked, "We just want to know if they're dangerous. If they're like Jennifer. She was basically dead. Is Brian a Darach?"

"No," Deaton answered quickly and surely. "Brian is a human. He's completely normal, for our kind. Morgan and her kids, they're Readers, and Carter, Carter's a Builder. She can command things to change. Her talent isn't perfected yet. Neither of her talents are perfected. She's very young and she's never had formal training. But they're not dangerous, to you or anyone else."

"Okay, I'm the smart one and even I didn't understand half of what you just said," I spoke up. "Builders? Readers?"

"This is something you should ask Carter and Brian. They're already going to have a lot of questions for you."

"They know we're werewolves," Isaac explained.

"Great, since you told them our secrets, tell us a few of theirs. Come on, Deaton. Don't pick favorites," I urged.

Deaton just stared at me and sighed. "They're exactly what they sound like. I'm an Emissary. I deliver messages, I give advice. Their family has always been Readers. They read people, nature, situations, stuff like that. They interpret. They're gift is knowledge. And they've always worked with Builders. Builders command nature, people. Builders cause change in themselves, in others, nature, situations. Builders need readers to know what to change and how to change it. It's a way to keep them in check."

"But Carter is both," I pointed out. "Nobody keeps her in check. What happens if she decides that everybody around her should bow down to her, what if she decides to kill, take away power, change people? What happens then?"

"She can't do that. Any more than Isaac could command Scott. She doesn't have the power right now but I also believe that it's not in her to do that. There are limitations on her power, just as there are limitations on Scott and Isaac."

"She brought her brother back from the dead!" Scott argued.

"And she can't ever do that to anyone ever again without killing herself in the process or killing somebody else. But her belief, her family's beliefs, won't allow her to kill somebody who isn't a danger to her. They're 'at one with nature.' It's who they are. They're not a danger to you. But you might want to talk to them because they're pretty uncomfortable right now. The way they see the two of you," Deaton pointed to Isaac and Scott, "is as shadows beneath human skin. You have them terrified."

"So why are we so freaked out around Brian?" Isaac demanded.

"Because he's unnatural. He smells unnatural to you. He smells like death and life at the same time. But, both of them are fine."

"So Scott, Allison, and I have doors in our head that want to be closed, Scott can't change right, Allison is haunted by her dead aunt, I can't read, and now we have two witches living in Beacon Hills. One of whom I really need to call and apologize for not telling her that my best friend scares her because he's a werewolf, not because he's a serial killer."

"You've covered all of the bases. And, Scott, you're about to get a lot more help around the shelter. I'm training Carter and Brian so they will be here during working hours," Deaton dropped the final piece of information on us. "Now that we've covered everything, please get out of my shop so I can go home and go to sleep. And, Scott, Isaac, do not go to the Ericksons' house tonight. Leave them alone."

"Well, since we have to leave them alone and they're not going to approach us, is there anything you can do so that we can all talk as a group? Anything at all?" Scott asked.


	14. Chapter 14

Brian and I stared across the shiny metal shelter table at the shadow people, the double girl, the Hunter, and Stiles. Stiles stood at one end of the table and Deaton stood at the other end, the people between us, keeping the dangerous parties away from one another. Deaton said slowly, "Okay. We just want to get both sides to understand what's going on. Neither of you hate each other yet. You're just scared of each other, and that's okay. You're different. You don't know each other. Neither of you have experienced the other's kind. I'm just here as a buffer. Who wants to speak first?"

Brian and I kept our eyes on them, silent and tense. Finally, Isaac spoke first, "Why does my body itch so bad when I'm around him?"

He pointed to Brian and I said quickly, "His name is Brian. Call him by his name."

"Brian," Scott corrected for his beta. Since learning what they were, what that meant, we could read them better. It was like reading a Physics book before and after taking Algebra. "Why do we itch so bad around Brian?"

"Can you answer that, Carter? Or should I?" Deaton prompted.

"It's because he still has a tinge of grave dust on him. People who are more perceptive, whether they're _different_ or not, can smell it on him. He hasn't been back long enough to wash it completely off. We're working on it," I explained.

"There are proper herbs and ingredients to wash him in that will remove that scent and that's what we'll be doing this week," Deaton announced. "It won't bother you anymore."

"How did you become werewolves?" Brian demanded. It was our turn to ask questions.

"We were bit," Isaac said. "Different people. I wasn't originally part of Scott's pack."

"And the alpha who bit me was killed and then came back to life and now he's somewhere else. But I became an alpha on my own," Scott added. "Isaac and I trust each other, so he joined me. Imagine the trust between the two of you, not bound by a brother-sister bond."

Brian and I looked over at one another and then back at them. Allison asked, "What does it do to you? Bringing him back?"

I paused and Deaton encouraged, "Go ahead, Carter. They're not going to use it against you."

"We share a life force." I stared down at my hands, folded neatly on the table in front of me, resisting the urge to pick at my fingernails. "I guess you could kind of say I faked a sacrifice. I tricked the other side into believing I was giving myself up for him. That's what sacrifice is. It's an exchange of life force. The other side already had what would have been his, if the accident didn't happen. So it doesn't actually need him anymore. So I could bring him back by pretending like I was going to exchange mine for his. I pulled him through to our side, and now I split my energy with him."

"So…what does that mean for you?" Stiles spoke up.

"Everything he does, every breath, every muscle movement, takes energy from my body. When he heals, he draws from me. When I heal, I heal at half capacity, which is why I'm still bruised from kicking that mother fucker's ass. We share everything."

"So does that mean, you're connected telepathically too?" Isaac questioned.

"No. Physical bond. Not mental," Brian answered. "It would be disgusting to hear all the thoughts that run through Carter's head."

I shoved him. The joke was terrible but it eased some of the tension. Stiles asked, "What kind of thoughts? Like dirty ones?"

"Shut up, Stiles," Lydia commanded, drawing our attention to her.

"What are you?" I said fast. "You're not a shadow. You're two things. You're a human and you're…something else. What are you?"

"Incredibly intelligent," she replied with a sarcastic smirk on her face.

"Lydia," Allison scolded.

Lydia rolled her eyes and answered honestly, "I'm a banshee. I'm a harbinger of death."

"And that's why Brian doesn't bother you. You're actually…you're actually comforted by his presence around you. Because he's been dead and back." I read her face quickly and her mouth dropped open a little. Brian elbowed me in the side. I apologized half-heartedly, "Sorry. It's honestly more of a reflex than a conscience decision."

"What do you plan on doing here?" Scott finally addressed what was on everybody's mind.

"Living. The rift is open here. That door in your head, that's the rift. Even when you close the door in your head, it will stay open and it makes it easier on us. I draw from that rift and it replenishes most of what Brian takes from me. The only other one in the US is in Texas. And I hate Texas."

"And your mother grew up here. She has connections here," Deaton interjected.

"So you guys literally just moved here to make it easier to keep Brian alive? You completely rearranged your lives so that you wouldn't have to accept a funeral?" Isaac.

"You've never lost somebody who you'd do anything to save?" I pointed out aggressively. "Don't tell me you haven't because every single one of you have. I can read it in your faces. You each have somebody that you've lost, or that you've come close to losing, somebody you'd walk the earth for. Somebody you'd kill to bring back. Even if that meant killing yourself in the process. Is it so wrong that I'd do that for my brother? It was my choice to do what I did and I wouldn't take it back, even if it meant my death."

I stared around at them, accusing each of them silently. Stiles directed his question to Brian, "And you're okay with that?"

"Not in the least. But I didn't get a choice. I'm five years older than Carter. I watched her grow up. We didn't have a dad, so I kind of did all the guy stuff with her. Taught her how to throw a punch, how to play catch, how to cuss. We were closer than two peas in a pod. And then, I died.

"I died fast. I was in a car wreck with four of my friends. I got out of the car, but I was going back in to pull them out. I was getting the last person out, a girl I had a crush on, she was in the back of the car, when it blew up. I died instantly. I didn't feel anything. It was like going to sleep. And when I opened my eyes, five years had passed, my mom and sister were standing over my gravestone, and my sister looked like this. I didn't need to be brought back. I didn't need them to save me. But let me tell you now, it was a huge surprise, waking up and finding out that my sister had gone from a chubby eleven year old to this." He gestured down at me and laughed. I rolled my eyes. His eyes traveled over the other group before he snapped quickly, "Seriously though, Stiles, Isaac, eyes off my sister."

They redirected their eyes quickly and Allison and Scott glared at them. I spoke, "It's our turn to ask a question. Have any of you, and I mean any one of you, ever killed anybody?"

Their eyes shifted over each other quickly. Guilt. Questioning. Skepticism. Scott defended, "We've always had a good reason to try. Allison thought she was protecting other people from our kind. Isaac was defending himself. I was protecting my family and my pack."

"To be fair, Lydia and I have never even tried to kill anyone!" Stiles added.

"None of them are murderers," Deaton swore. He was the only one we truly trusted. He was our teacher, our connection to the world we'd been born into.

"Well, I'm hungry so, do you want to explain the extenuating circumstances over pizza or something?" I proposed. "I have to eat pretty regularly. My body burns energy like a furnace so it requires more fuel. And, right now, my tank is running on fumes."

"Yeah. You can ride with me."

"Thank you, Stiles, but we brought our car. We'll just meet you there," I rejected him. "Let's do story time over pizza."

"That sounds like a great idea!" Deaton agreed. "Get to know each other. But also, since Carter and Brian have an advantage, the two of you should as well. The two of them are carrying mountain ash in their pockets. They won't use it unless it's one hundred percent necessary."

They stared at the two of us and we shrugged casually.

**Stiles **

"So she knows she's hot, we know she's hot, and her brother knows she's hot," Isaac said slowly. "The question is whether they know we know she's hot."

Scott rode his bike to the pizza place, Allison and Lydia took Lydia's car, and Isaac and I were stuck in my jeep. "Dude, they can literally read it when we think about her being hot! It's like reading a book on our faces. We're literally writing a book on our faces. Anyway, don't you have a thing for Allison?"

"Don't you have a thing for Lydia?" he retorted. "It doesn't mean we can't notice that she is really freaking hot. We just can't think about it in front of her or her brother. Ever. Do you think Scott notices?"

"Scott definitely freaking notices. He's just smart enough not to say it."

"So what do you think about them saying Lydia is attracted to Brian because he's death incarnate?"

"Lydia is self-serving. She's not going to be attracted to anyone she doesn't want to be."

"Well she might be serving herself then because her heartbeat sped up when Carter said that she was attracted to Brian." I hated the smirk on his face when he said that.

"Shut up."

"Do you think Brian and Carter are having a similar conversation in their car?"

"I highly doubt it."

**Carter**

"They think you're crazy hot! This is ridiculous."

"Hey! Lydia thinks you're crazy hot! Don't give me crap. I didn't ask for the beta and the nightmare walker to think I'm attractive! Trust me when I say that this body is a side effect of bringing you back. If I could, I'd eat pizza and wings all day, every day."

"Oh my god, Carter!" I tightened my hands on the wheel and turned my head fast to look over at Brian.

"What!?" There was an ecstatic grin decorating his face.

"We can have wings! And breadsticks!" he cried out.

"And cheese sticks!" I joined in. "Oh my god, and meat lover's pizza!"

"This might be the best decision we've ever made!"


	15. Chapter 15

**So, I'm turning twenty tomorrow morning and I want to celebrate by posting the first pack interaction with the Erickson siblings. This way you guys know that the pack isn't all bad, just scared and suspicious. But wouldn't we all be if every time we turned around somebody was trying to rip our throats out. Of course *spoiler alert* you could just be like Kate Argent. Anyway, happy birthday to me and happy Monday to you! **

"And there were worms all over my feet. It was absolutely disgusting."

"Sounds like it," Brian agreed around the breadstick in his mouth. Allison was seated next to Brian and Isaac was beside Carter, on the edge of the table. Lydia, Scott, and I were on the other side, getting a front view of the siblings eating, and it was one of the most fascinating things I'd ever seen. We were giving them a complete rundown of every gory, horrifying thing we'd done since Scott got bit, and they were destroying food as if it were nothing. Carter had eaten twelve wings, two pieces of pizza, and three cheesy breadsticks by herself since we sat down. Brian ate half the wings, most of the breadsticks, and three pieces of pizza. And they ate like they were starving.

"And that was when you brought him back to life?" Carter questioned before tearing into another wing.

"Not exactly. That happened after my party, where I was basically forced to drug everybody! Can you believe that?" It turned out that Carter and Brian were exceptional listeners when they were distracted by food.

"That is wild. Tell us some more about that," Brian ordered. Isaac's eyes followed the path of Carter's fingers as they slipped into her mouth and she sucked at them one at a time.

"Do you want us to order more food?" Carter asked. "We have the money."

"No, that's okay. You should keep eating though. You guys seem hungry," Scott encouraged. Carter shrugged. They didn't bother to explain that they rarely got junk food or excessive meat. They didn't bother to try to explain it away as them sharing metabolism and needing the energy. They just didn't care what we thought.

"So, after tormenting me forever, I finally was forced to bring him back to life and everybody blamed me!"

"Well, one thing I can say is I didn't hurt anybody coming back," Brian chimed in. "The only person affected is Carter and, as long as we both stay pretty safe, we're fine."

"What happens if you get hurt?" Isaac asked, taking his eyes away from the way Carter's mouth curved around the straw.

"Depends."

"On?"

"Severity," Carter answered. "Basically, unless he dies instantly, it will probably kill me. If it's a really bad wound, it will drain me trying to heal him. It will take my life force. If it's really bad and I don't have enough to save him, it will kill both of us."

"What if you had advanced healing?" Isaac interrogated. "What if you got something that would let you support you both evenly? Or if he had it?"

"We're not getting turned," Carter cut him off quickly. "We just found out about werewolves and we both know without a doubt that it's not something we want. We do fine on our own. We don't need your added problems."

We all stared at her and her eyes crossed our faces quickly. She added, "No offense. But seriously, you just told us that you had to kill a guy that you later had to bring back to life. As long as we keep to ourselves, people generally don't want to kill us."

"Why'd you change your last name then?" Brian and Carter's eyes snapped up to my face and searched it fast. I explained, "Deaton mentioned that your mom got married but she still goes by her maiden name. Why?"

"Easier," Brian answered shortly. "People attended my funeral. It's easier to have a new last name than to explain to people that, even though I was dead for five years, I'm not anymore."

"What was your last name before you changed it back?" Allison asked. We were each trying to show interest in them when Lydia wasn't talking and they weren't stuffing their faces.

"Donalds. Lydia, keep telling us what happened with your lizard boyfriend," Carter commanded. "You're more interesting than us."

And Lydia kept talking, letting us add in details about what Jackson was doing when she wasn't around. Carter and Brian listened carefully, asking questions when appropriate and being completely polite. They reminded me of having dinner with Morgan, how they listened to her while doing their own thing. By the time we got to the Alpha pack kidnapping Isaac, they seemed done eating and were sitting very neatly and politely, their eyes tracing over our faces as we talked and their hands folded on the table in front of them.

"So the alpha twins are still around here?" Carter asked at the end of us talking, after the waitress had cleared the table and Carter and Brian were counting out cash. They refused to show us the receipt but we could all guess that it was around forty dollars. When Isaac reached for it, Carter slid it out from under his hand without letting him touch her.

"Yeah, do you guys always share a wallet?" That was Isaac, focusing on the important stuff. He was distracted by everything they did. As the only one of us who'd ever had a sibling, he was picking their relationship apart and comparing it. Though, it was hard not to notice when Brian pulled out a wallet and handed Carter a wad of money paper clipped to her license.

"No, just when we go out together," Brian answered shortly. "Can we focus on the evil twins that morph into one giant werewolf?"

"Yes, Aiden and Ethan are still around," Scott answered, "but they're not evil anymore."

"But we still don't trust them," Isaac chimed in.

"Wait, Ethan, like Ethan-Danny's-ex-boyfriend, Ethan?" Carter demanded.

"Yeah, he kind of has a thing for assholes," I explained. "But he doesn't know about Ethan. He just thinks Ethan lives a complicated life."

"And that's gone on for how long?"

"About six months now," Allison said casually.

"Fucking Christ." Isaac snorted into his Coke as the words escaped Carter's mouth. "We thought two weeks was bad. How is he going to take it if he finds out?"

"Some of his best friends…"

"And his best friend," Allison interrupted me.

"Are werewolves and he hasn't found out yet. At one point, there were three werewolves on the lacrosse team and he didn't even question it. Danny's nice. He's just not observant," I finished.

"Has it ever put him in danger?" I didn't have to be a 'reader' to see the concern written across Carter and Brian's faces. They cared about Danny. They genuinely wanted to take care of him.

"A few times," Scott admitted, "but we always take care of him!"

They stared at one another and Lydia snapped, "Stop that now!"

"Huh?"

"That! Where you two stare at each other and trade secrets because you can!" she cried out. "WE literally just told the two of you everything we've done for a year and a half! Just because Scott's boss/werewolf advisor told us to trust you. So you have to trust us too!"

"We were agreeing to watch over Danny as often as we could. I want to watch over Jason too," Carter shared at us, her eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare.

"I thought you didn't have a telekinetic connection," Isaac was leaning on the table as close as possible to her and I wandered if she was still freaked out by the "shadow" under his face.

"We don't. We're literally reading each other. It's easier since we know each other so well and we have the bringing me back from the dead bond. We're going to pay now so sit up away from my sister. Flirt with the hunter." Brian waved at the waitress and Isaac leaned away from Carter.

"Allison," Allison bit out. "My name is Allison."

"How the two of you go from nice to irritating and rude is amazing," I said. "I know the two of you aren't really that big of assholes. I've been spending like two hours at your house a night."

"We're uncomfortable," Brian admitted it so fast even Carter was shocked. He continued, "Come on! There are five of you staring at us, waiting for us to tell you all of our secrets, how we interact. Allison's waiting for us to reveal that we slaughtered a hundred people; Scott wants to know what we want to do so he can keep us in check; Lydia wants to talk about herself, Isaac wants to know every detail of who we are, and you're trying to make us all friends, Stiles!"

"We were comfortable while we were eating because we only had to listen and enjoy meat," Carter backed him up. "But our comfort levels change based on what's on your faces and, Allison, Scott, the less we talk, the more frustrated you get. In turn, it makes us uncomfortable."

"And the more uncomfortable you are, the less you talk, and the more frustrated we get," Scott sighed. "There isn't a good way to do this then!"

"Dude, yeah there is!" I objected. "We just all need to stop interrogating each other. Lydia, how did I learn what your favorite color is?"

"Stalking."

"No!" I scoffed. "I got to know you! That's what all of you are ignoring. I know who Carter is as a person because I've gotten to know her. So oh my God, can we stop interrogating each other?"

"Sure, but we're going to go anyway," Brian excused them. "We're supposed to go back to the shelter for our second lesson. You were our first lesson."

"We have stuff to do anyway. We'll see you at school on Monday and we'll hang out."

Carter and Brian went to the counter and Isaac informed us, "She just told Brian that this is going to be the most awkward thing they've ever done."

"For right now, let's just focus on Malia the were-coyote," Scott ordered. "We need to be normal."

"I'm going to plan a sleepover," Lydia announced.

"Oh my God!" Allison growled.


	16. Chapter 16

"I'm glad you're back! I can't believe they're making you do two weeks detention when Bruger got nothing!" Jason exclaimed.

"Trust me, Jason. I am not worried about it at all." I'd seen Bruger that morning. The swelling of his black eyes had gone down and his pretty white nose cast glowed against the bruises. It was rare that violence brought me pleasure. But, when I saw Bruger, my grin sparked Danny's, Isaac's, and Stiles's. "Detention sucks and I hate that I had to cancel bowling with you, but I'm not upset. I reacted poorly in a tense situation and I deserve the consequences. I am really sorry about Saturday though."

"No, it's fine. Really, I understand," Jason assured me. "And, you know, we could just reschedule it. For this Saturday. Unless there's somebody else you plan to teach a lesson."

"I need to teach you a lesson or two about Government," I teased. "Your notes are terrible. Maybe we need to get together Wednesday and study and we can talk about Saturday then."

"I like that idea, a lot. Wednesday after school?"

"Yeah, you can ride to our house with us and I'll take you home when we're done studying. It could take a couple of hours. You're pretty bad at Government," I taunted. My stomach fluttered with nervous, happy butterflies. I was actually flirting. I was flirting with a beautiful, funny guy who was flirting back.

"You'll make a great teacher." He nudged me with his elbow and I swayed a little in our steps. "So what do they have you doing for your study hall detention?"

"I have to clean the locker room." I wrinkled my nose and Jason made a face back at me. "Male and female locker rooms. Starting with the guys."

"Gross. Is that where you're headed now?"

"Yes, that's where I'm headed now. And it's not on the way to your class, Jason. So you should get to class." I stopped in the hallway to smile up at him and he grinned down at me.

"Can I hug you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Can I hug you? I don't want to freak you out by just grabbing you so I thought I'd ask. Is it weird that I asked?"

"No, no! It's not weird," I assured him quickly. "I'm glad you asked. I don't have to break your nose."

He laughed and dropped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his body. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he rested his chin on the top of my head. He rested his hands respectfully on my lower back and squeezed me tight before he released me and said, "I'll see you later. Make sure you wear gloves."

"Later, Jason." He turned to the left and I turned to the right. The cleaning supplies were waiting on a bench for me. Coach was ecstatic that he had somebody cleaning the locker rooms and he was happy to make sure it got cleaned the proper way. I stripped down to a tank top and a pair of shorts so my clothes wouldn't be ruined and started scrubbing the showers. I was in there for six minutes when the door banged open.

"I'm cleaning in here!" I called out.

"Carter, it's us!" Scott shouted. "Come here now!"

I dropped the squirt bottle and raced around the corner, threatening while I did, "I'm not part of your pack, Scott. You're not allowed to order me around."

I rounded the corner and found Scott and Stiles standing by the sink. Stiles was bent over the sink, his back heaving as he took deep, harsh breaths. I demanded, "Why is he having a panic attack?"

"You can't read it?!"

"I can't see his face, dumbass. What's going on?"

"He can't read, Carter. At all. Anything. None of it makes sense."

"I don't know if I'm awake or not. This could all be a dream. You've been in my dreams, Carter. And you, Scott," Stiles panted. "I don't know if I'm asleep or awake anymore. I don't know what's going on."

"How can you tell if you're awake or not?" Scott cried out.

"Count fingers. You can count fingers! In dreams, you have more or fewer fingers!"

"Count with me, Stiles. I need you to count with me!" Scott shouted. I rolled my eyes.

"Count. I'm going to do something else," I commanded. I stepped up behind Stiles and wrapped my hands around his middle. I flattened my palms out on his chest, right below his pecs. I spread my fingers wide across his midsection and pressed in, squeezing while I spoke. "One, two, three, four. Your mind is an open door. One, two, three, four. Think about breathing more. One, two, three, four. Take your breaths from in your core."

"A nursery rhyme?" Scott spit out.

I glared at him and kept pressing with each count. One. Press. Two. Press. Three. Press. Four. Press. And just hug on the words. I paused and ordered, "Count your fingers still. All I'm doing is calming the panic attack. I need you to make him remember that he's awake!"

Scott started counting, slowly and in tandem with the words I was speaking, in tandem with the compressions of his chest. Slowly, Stiles breathing slowed and he turned around in my arms to grab at me. His arms wrapped tight around my shoulders and he hauled me to his chest hard. One arm was a crossbar across my back, squeezing me to his chest. He threaded his other hand through my hair and pressed his cheek to the top of my head. Though he was still gasping, it wasn't panic attack gasping. It had calmed down, slowed. He demanded, "What did you do?"

"Brian used to have them," I explained. "When he first got back from the other side, there was a period where he'd wake up screaming because he was scared and he didn't know where he was. There was just a lot of fear and that's how I talked him through it. It's not a nursery rhyme. I'm commanding you to breath. I'm commanding your lungs to accept air again, to slow down. I'm commanding with your body and my voice."

"You're reading and building," Stiles said against my head. "I prefer the last way a person stopped me from having a panic attack."

"I'm not kissing you, Stiles." I pulled away from him and clasped his face between my hands to study his eyes. I murmured, "What is on the other side? What's using you to claw through?"

"What?" Stiles asked. I could see the light from the rift glowing from the depths of his mind. "What do you see?"

"Nothing now. But you need to take some time to get yourself back together. Scott, I'll take care of him. You go back to class." I released Stiles' face and stepped away from him.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked.

"I can take care of him," I promised.

"Stiles?"

"I trust her," Stiles assured him.

"I'll be back to check on him later." Scott left and I led Stiles into the bench area. He sat down and I retrieved my gloves from the floor.

"Thank you," Stiles said softly. "I feel warm. It's like you took away any bad thing in me."

"I didn't and I wouldn't." I went into the showers to retrieve my spray bottle.

"You can though?"

"In a way but I'm not very good at it. It takes a lot of work and I would have to truly mean it. I would have to want you to never hurt again, without a doubt, without any selfish thoughts. I would literally have to take on every ounce of pain you've ever felt."

"You mean, like my memories?"

"Sort of. I don't know a lot about it. You'd still have all of your memories, but you wouldn't have any of their pain. Only the good stuff."

"Where would the pain go?"

"Into me. I would literally be taking your pain, Stiles. Pain is a form of energy, and energy cannot be created or destroyed- only transferred or transformed."

"Have you ever done it before?"

"Yeah, by accident. When I brought Brian back, I took pain from him. I've never cared that much about anyone else."


	17. Chapter 17

"If we don't close the doors soon, we're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"Thank you, Isaac, for enlightening us once again." Two days without getting regular sleep, we still hadn't solved our Malie-the-were-coyote problem, the new girl Kira said we were going to die, and Isaac was harping on us because Allison was still attempting to murder her friends because of Kate haunting her. "If we knew how to solve it, I wouldn't have to have Carter reading to me at night."

"How'd you get her to do that?"

"I told Greenberg that if he was any kind of man, he'd give her flowers on their date and, being the idiot he is, he thought I meant sneak them into her locker so she finds them after first period. And she loved it and he gave me credit so now she's indebted to me."

"You're a good friend, Stiles," Scott congratulated me.

"Other than Danny and Greenberg, I'm her only friend. Where are you guys on this? You're supposed to be making friends with them so they can help us with pack stuff.

"I see them at work," Scott excused. "Deaton spent the week teaching them about the shelter and how to wash grave stench off of Brian. He reeks of it."

"Brian doesn't like me very much," Isaac countered with a shrug.

"Yeah, that's because he thinks you're a complete skeaze. You broke the 'bro code' and he doesn't want you near Carter. He says you find her too 'interesting,'" I informed him.

"Oh come on! I'm not going to hit on her just because she's hot. I really want to know more about her."

"Start somewhere other than her perky little ass and you might get better results."

"Perky?" Scott and Isaac said in unison.

"Oh shut up. I run with her five times a week. It's noticeable. Anyway, where are the girls on this? At least Lydia's trying. She's organizing a sleepover for them. What's Allison doing?"

"Mostly avoiding her," Scott admitted.

"Research," Isaac corrected. "She still doesn't trust them so she's doing research on them."

"And I'm sure that doesn't put Carter and Brian on edge at all. They're secretive. They don't like people nosing in their business."

"And we still don't think that's strange?" Isaac said. "It's not that I don't like them because I really do now that they're talking to us, but secrets generally are bad news for us."

"They told you their biggest secret," I argued. "So what if they don't want us to know where they went to middle school, or where they're going for dates, or where their Mom went to college."

Isaac's face lit up in a sly, luminescent grin and he asked, "Why would we want to know where they're **going **for dates if we're researching their past? Shouldn't we know where they **went** for dates? Unless there's a reason we need to keep track of their dates."

"You're way too happy that you finally caught a slight of tongue."

"I just think it's interesting how much I get lectured for looking at her when you're the one noticing her perky ass and being irritated by where she's going on dates."

"Oh my god, shut up."

"Increased heart rate."

"Isaac," Scott warned, "no werewolf senses. Fight fair or don't fight."

Isaac shrugged and grinned. He'd gotten his point across and he wasn't entirely wrong. I wasn't in love with Carter and my feelings for her were nothing compared to how I'd felt for Lydia before, but there was something there. Something that stared as an attraction the first time I saw her and grew in the month I got to know her until it culminated the day she stopped my panic attack. It was warmth and comfort and the urge to be near her, close to her. And, surprisingly, it was something she and Brian didn't even seem to notice. They still smiled at me when I joined them and Danny in the mornings, still welcomed me into their home, still answered my calls and texts. So I figured it wasn't a crush. It was admiration. Deep seated admiration.

"Okay, be honest," she commanded from inside the closet, "what do you think?"

"I think I've told you that I'm not this kind of gay friend," Danny replied as Carter stepped out of the closet in green ballet flats, skin tight black jeans, and a low cut emerald t shirt. Her red hair was pulled back from her face by a black headband and her face was scrubbed clean of any makeup. It was three o'clock on a Saturday and she was getting ready for her date and acting very non-Carterly.

"Way too much cleavage!" Brian barked.

He was sprawled across her bed with Danny sitting near his head. I was in the bean bag chair closest to the closet. Carter argued, "That's kind of the point of low cut shirts, Brian."

"Absolutely not."

"Maybe with a scarf," Danny sighed. "Stop dragging me into this. Stiles probably knows more about fashion than I do."

"No, Stiles knows more about how attractive a girl is," Carter pointed out. "That's why he's here. To give me an objective opinion on how good my butt looks and to tell me if he'd kiss me at the end of the night."

"Carter, don't give Stiles a heart attack!" Brian scolded. She looked over at me and her eyebrows knitted together when she realized I'd stopped breathing.

She snorted and assured me, "Don't worry, Stiles. You don't really have to kiss me. Goodness sakes. I'm not that scary! So what do you think? Yes or no?"

"Umm….the shirt looks nice….but it might be a little low cut. You know, just a little. Try what Danny said. Umm…try with a scarf."

"Maybe some necklaces," she contemplated, walking over to her dresser to dig through the drawers to find a scarf.

"Not necklaces!" Brian and I snapped at the same time. Brian continued, "Christ, Carter, we want to deflect wandering eyes, not draw them there with neon flashing lights."

"Well, Brian, it's a good thing my neon flashing light necklace broke," she retorted while her arms lifted in the air to neatly tie a scarf around her neck. She spun around and threw her arms out, demanding, "What do you think now?"

"It hides you better," Brian approved.

She rolled her eyes and turned to me. "What do you think, Stiles? Would you kiss me at the end of the night?"

"Umm…yeah. You look great. I would…I mean, if we were that way. You know." I tried to compose my face but it didn't matter anyway because she turned around and started picking at jewelry on her dresser top. I looked over at Danny and Brian and Danny winced. Brian just stared at me with one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Okay, now that I know you aren't going to be nearly naked tonight, I'm going downstairs to try and regain an ounce of my masculinity," Brian excused himself.

"Hard to do with tiny baby hands," Carter shot at him.

"Jewelry is where I draw the line, Carter. I'm going to join Brian in watching sports or eating meat or something," Danny added.

"I'm going to go punch things with my tiny baby hands."

"Whatever makes you feel better, bro. I have a couple hours before I have to shower." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand and they jumped up to make their escape. She muttered under her breath, "Pussies."

"I'm just gonna…"

"Don't you dare move from that seat until you've analyzed me, Stiles Stilinski," she warned. "This is the first date I've ever been on in my life and I want to look nice for it!"

"And you will," I promised her. "You look great already. Anyway, Greenberg would be just as excited if you showed up barefoot wearing your workout clothes. The dude's freaking ecstatic that you even want to spend any kind of time with him."

"I'm just surprised that he wants to spend time with me! I have never had a guy show me attention before. I was pretty young when Brian died but I was on the fast track to being a chubby kid. And then I was so busy but you know I had chances to be noticed. But I just never was."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," I replied, thinking of Lydia.

"Do you want to see something that I hate but might make you feel better about Lydia never noticing you?" she asked suddenly.

"Always." She bounced away from her dresser and over to her closet and I was thankful for the scarf Brian made her wear because she was definitely moving around in that shirt.

"I'm going to change while I'm in here, then I'll show you." Her voice was muffled from within the closet but I heard her just fine. She emerged a moment later in her jogging pants and a t shirt, holding a photo album. She commanded, "Scoot over, Stiles."

I moved a little so she could plop down on the beanbag chair next to me. I ignored the way her thigh pressed against mine and the way her hair swung across my face and shoulder when she sat down. She laid the photo album on her lap and announced, "This photo album is the only record my Mom and I have kept of me and Brian before the accident. We kept pictures of just him and Mom or him and Dad but we couldn't keep pictures of me and him hanging around because the age difference is too noticeable. So Mom put them all in this album and it's mine now and now I'm going to show you what I would have looked like if I hadn't had to get in shape and be perfectly healthy in order to bring Brian back."

She opened her book and skipped past a few pages but my eyes skimmed them quickly. The first picture in the book was of a very young Brian standing next to a tall red headed man holding a pink blanket. The man's smile matched Brian's but his eyes matched Carter's. I knew without questioning that it was their dad. She flipped through pretty quickly and came to a stop on a picture of a younger her with Brian. He looked exactly the same as his current self but little Carter had been a big child. I sputtered, "You were…a little…ummm….you were…."

"A little round," she laughed. "I was overweight for my age. This picture was taken a month before Brian died and, at the time, I only weighed like thirty pounds less than him."

"Baby fat," I excused.

She laughed again and assured me, "I'm not sensitive about it, Stiles. I was big for a preteen and I stayed big until I was 13. That's why Brian was so shocked when he came back and saw me. I weigh less at 16 than I did at 11. But it took a year and a half to get me down to this so I missed all the guys falling over me and wanting to take me on dates. It's kind of nice when Jason sees me and his face lights up or when Isaac stares. Not when he stares at my ass or tits, but when he just stares."

"It reminds you that you didn't **only** bring Brian back," I added.

"Yeah, kind of," she agreed. "I didn't just give Brian life. I gave me life too."

I looked up to find her grinning and I really wanted to hug her. She looked up and searched my face for a second before she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me tight. Her chin rested on my shoulder and she murmured, "Don't tell Danny, but you're my best friend. I know Scott's your best friend, but you're my best friend, other than Brian but it's kind of embarrassing to admit that your brother is your best friend."

I squeezed her a little tighter before I ordered, "You should go get a shower to get ready."

"Okay, but don't you leave!" she warned. "I need your opinion still."

"I'll be downstairs. Just yell when you're ready for me." She released me and I went downstairs.

As soon as I hit the bottom of the stairs, Brian called out, "Stiles, come help me get food!"

I went into the kitchen and Brian was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at me. I didn't get a chance to say anything before he said, "Did you know that Carter can't read emotions she's never seen before?"

"What?"

"I've heard Carter explain the reading process. She describes it like she reads words from people's faces and that might be how she sees it. But they're not words. They're traits, emotions, things that make up who a person is. Emotions just show up better. The problem is, if we've never seen an emotion, we can't read it, or we misinterpret it. I once misread hunger in a homeless person as anger."

"Well, that's what Deaton's supposed to help you guys with."

"And, when he does help us, what do you think Carter's going to start seeing in your face?" Brian asked. "She knows what attraction and affection look like, what liking somebody instantaneously looks like. Love and caring and friendship too. But she doesn't know what it looks like when it starts as friendship, when it's just starting to build and burn. But she does know what it looks like when it's a bonfire and, Stiles, you're becoming a bonfire."

"What?" I repeated.

"You like my sister," Brian summarized, "and she is going to see it if you keep letting it grow. So you need to squash it or tell her. I know you're confused by it yourself, but you need to get it figured out because our reading lessons start next week and it won't be too long until she can figure it out on her own."

"Perfect," I sighed in irritation. "Why aren't you pissed off?"

"Because you're nice to Carter, you're not a werewolf, and she can kick your ass six ways from Sunday. Help me get the carrot sticks." Just like that, Brian dropped the subject and left me to deal with the confusion. We joined Danny in the living room and it was two hours before Carter called me up to tell her how pretty she was so I could leave to fix the Malia situation with Scott, Isaac, Lydia, and Allison and she could go on her date.


End file.
